


The Thin Line

by Embarassedbutkinky



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angry Sex, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Rare Pairings, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embarassedbutkinky/pseuds/Embarassedbutkinky
Summary: Androids Seventeen and Eighteen have decimated the future, and now they're bored. What else is there to do besides lay around the ruined wastes of the Earth and occasionally mess with Trunks, the Half Saiyan warrior intent on their destruction? Rather than put her efforts into a time machine, Bulma Briefs creates a way to incapacitate one of them. What Seventeen thinks is a harmless game of playing with his food will shake him to his very foundation and make him rethink everything he has done since he lost his humanity, and standing above him will be the one man he's taken the most from.
Relationships: Android 17/Future Trunks Briefs
Comments: 48
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here me out.  
> What a weird pairing, right? But shockingly easy and fun to write... Not sure just how long this will be, but I have plans for it. Thanks to Blackswan22 for reading the first part to tell me if I'm crazy, lol. 
> 
> Thanks,  
> EBK

It would have been inappropriate to describe what remained of East City as ruins. Like most cities now, the buildings here had never been old. They'd never had the chance to sag or crack or be reclaimed by the natural vegetation of the Earth. They had crumbled before their time, destroyed in the initial devastation Gero's creations had caused, and then occasionally insulted again when the androids were bored enough to return to them.

There were no humans here, not anymore. Those that had survived lived underground mostly, occasionally coming up to scavenge from the vestiges of their old civilization. It was funny, watching them scurry around as though they thought they were being sneaky. The twins often let them think their attempts at stealth were working and let them pass, but on slower days they'd play a game of 'kill on sight' to see which one of them found more unfortunate foragers in twenty-four hours.

They were considering that game today. Seventeen sat against a broken telephone pole on what was once a busy street, tossing a hunk of jagged metal into the air and catching it when it came down. It was so quiet that the simple sound of metal hitting his flesh echoed around their camp. 

They had made a lot of these places over the years; small clearings for them to just relax in when they were bored, or for the rare occasions when they chose to sleep. Their East City camp was just a circle of broken vehicles forming a short wall around dirt, more for aesthetics than safety. They feared nothing. Life at the top of the food chain meant never worrying about others sneaking up on you.

Eighteen had pulled off her jacket and pushed her long sleeves up as high as they would go, laying out luxuriously on the hood of a rusted car as she soaked up the harsh sun. Her eyes were closed, but if she really wanted to sleep she would have warned her twin brother. After an hour of nothing, she spoke.

"We could head north. We haven't been up there in a while."

He took his time answering. "And do what? Make snow angels? There weren't many villages up there to begin with. The mice scattered after a few raids."

"It was just an idea," she sighed.

Neither of them wanted to bring it up, but days like this were becoming more frequent. There was nothing left to break, only a few communities to terrorize, and precious few distractions from the boredom.

"We could drop some cars in the river and see whose hits the bottom first," he suggested.

"We did that yesterday," Eighteen said.

"Right, but it was fun." Seventeen flattened out on the ground, staring at the sky. "I'm hungry again. And horny."

"I think we're too close sometimes," Eighteen muttered, wrinkling her nose. "And you're not hungry."

"Yes, I am," he argued for the fifth time in a month.

"We have no need to eat. You can't be."

"If your brain says you want food, you're hungry. I might try to see if there anymore of those snack cakes at the grocery store down south."

"I thought you hated those?"

"They're not great, but they have a decent shelf life."

"It'd kill an hour. I'm down."

He grimaced. There were none left and they both knew it. "There's got to be something fun we haven't--"

The dirt next to Seventeen's cheek exploded as an energy blast hit it, whipping his head to the side and managing to cut his cheek. He spun his head back around to look towards the stealthy figure that had approached them, and grinned broadly.

"Well, look at what the cat dragged in," he said.

" _ Yes _ !" Eighteen sat up, pulling her jacket back on. She waved boldly, as if the attacker was an old friend. "Nice to see you, Trunks! Did you get a haircut? Looks great!"

The Half-Saiyan circled around the clearing, hands full of bright energy as he prepared to attack again. He glared down at the two, disgust and hate evident in his steely eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Seventeen interrupted him.

"Yes, we know, today is the day you take us down, we're monsters, we'll pay for what we did to Gohan, blah blah. We're  _ so glad _ to see you, it's getting straight dull around here."

"Oh, here's a game," Eighteen grinned at her brother, sauntering up to take a fighting stance next to him. "Maybe we each try to cut off  _ just _ one of his fingers, and whoever gets a longer one wins?"

Seventeen grimaced. "Meh, let's not. His punches already lack some power, missing his fingers won't help that in the long run."

"Fair," she nodded, casually dodging out of the way of another energy blast from Trunks. "How about first to get a lock of hair?"

"Better," he nodded, then his eyes went wide. "Oh shit, I have an idea," he leaned in close to make sure Trunks couldn't hear, whispering in her ear.

Eighteen laughed at his idea. "You  _ are _ horny today. Sure, I'm down."

Trunks landed in the dirt not far from them, pulling a short staff of metal from his belt and approaching them. The staff sparked with electricity dangerously, blue energy shooting from it at intervals.

"Well someone got a new toy," Eighteen grinned, dodging as he swung the staff towards her. Seventeen backed up slightly, trying to plan out his strategy for winning the game.

Eighteen danced closer to Trunks, crowding him while avoiding the staff, and they quickly ended up taking to the sky. She stayed on the defensive, just trying to get closer as though it was her only goal. This was not her normal fighting style. Eighteen normally took the offensive approach or stayed back until she had an advantage. The change in strategy clearly had the young Half-Saiyan off guard.

That was Seventeen's plan. Let her wear Trunks out, and then make his move to win the game.

Trunks adjusted to her behavior, finally deciding to take advantage of her defensive dodging. He flew towards her, staff extended, telegraphing his move but clearly hoping his sheer speed and force would overpower whatever she had to counter.

Eighteen stayed still until the last moment, and then dodged to the side to avoid him. She leaned in close as she avoided him, puckering her lips and trying to catch him in a surprise kiss.

Trunks' eyes went wide with horror as he narrowly avoided the surprise peck. He gritted his teeth, growling. "What is  _ wrong _ with you? Is everything a god-damned joke?"

"Well, there goes my element of surprise," she sighed, crossing her arms.

Trunks shook his head in disgust, tightening his grip on the staff. "Enough games!"

He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around automatically. While he was speaking to Eighteen, Seventeen had managed to slide up right behind him. The android grabbed both sides of Trunks' face before the Half-Saiyan even had a chance to react, shoving their lips together before he could protest.

"Aw, damn," Eighteen tutted, crossing her arms. "You win, but I should get half the credit for distracting him."

Trunks froze, but Seventeen wasn't sure why. Disgust? Anger? He didn't particularly care. It had been a  _ long _ time since he kissed anyone. He'd fought Trunks hundreds of times, but they'd never been this close before. He was pressed against the young man's body, trying to steal every second of the kiss he could. His head swam, a jolt of excitement running through what nerves Gero had left him.

He felt Trunks' hand touch the back of his neck. Could he be enjoying this too? If Trunks was willing to kiss him for some reason he had a few other activities more interesting than fighting they could try. Maybe they could ask Eighteen to get lost for a few days…

The staff in Trunks' hand was thrust hard into Seventeen's shoulder. He struggled for a moment, but Trunks' arm held him firm in place. Electricity he'd been expecting, but not the noise. As soon as the end of the staff broke his skin an ear-splitting static filled his head, making thought impossible. He seized up, hands drawn painfully down to his side as the frequency froze every piece of machinery inside of him. His human organs struggled to maintain; his lungs ached for air, and his heart beating erratically.

"Oh shit," he heard his sister mutter in the distance. "A  _ fancy _ new toy. Nikki Town."

For the first time in his memory, Seventeen fell into unconsciousness against his will.

\----------------------

He was sore everywhere, and damn impressed by whatever weapon had done it. As Seventeen worked his way slowly to consciousness he could feel incredibly tight metal chains around all of his body, tethering him to a chair. His hands were encased in what felt like ballistics gel, probably to stop him from any energy attacks he might muster up. He rolled his head slightly to the side to wake up, and he heard gasping.

"Get back, Mom, he's awake! Take your positions. He's trying to lure us closer so he can attack." He heard Trunks bark out from a distance away.

"No I'm not," Seventeen muttered groggily. "I've just got a hell of a hangover." He cracked open his eyes to see a scientist he recognized closer to him, a very nervous look on her face. He smiled. "Hey, Bulma right? I assume that was your toy that Trunks had. Knocked my ass out. Nice work."

Bulma smirked slightly despite herself. "Did it hurt? I hope it did."

"Hell yeah it did," he said cordially. He took note of the others in the room; there were heavily armed soldiers in mismatched armor along the walls, some pointing their guns at him. Trunks stood at the door of the empty metal room they were hunkered down in, talking to someone outside. "I'll take a wild guess, tell me if I'm close. Internal EMP to get past our defense and fuck up our system?"

Bulma nodded. "It was  _ supposed _ to kill you, but we'll settle for knocking you out until we figure out how to turn up the juice."

"Hmm, I'm not sure juice is enough to do it. I was pretty fucked up, but I think the EMP hit its threshold for damage. What you should really do is figure out a way to kill my human bits too, knock those offline and then hit me with the EMP again so I don't have a backup system to keep me going."

"Interesting," she muttered. "I didn't know the organic components made a backup life support. I wonder if--"

" _ Mom _ ," Trunks said, coming up behind her, "what are you doing? He's the enemy. You can't just  _ talk _ to him."

"We're talking about how to kill him, Trunks, that's what we wanted."

"He's lying. He's not going to help you figure out his weaknesses."

"Sure I would," Seventeen tried to shrug, but couldn't budge in his chains. "If you know how to kill me it makes our fights more entertaining."

"Gag him," Trunks ordered. One of the human soldiers stepped forward and shoved a piece of cloth into Seventeen's mouth, and the android rolled his eyes.

"Is that necessary?" Bulma asked, crossing her arms at her son. "If he has information--"

"He doesn't know anything we don't," Trunks said. "He's just trying to distract us so that we don't hear his sister coming to break him out of here."

Seventeen muttered something around the gag, shaking his head.

"Shut up!" Trunks snapped. 

"Wait," Bulma said, pulling out the cloth. "What did you say?"

Seventeen spat some fibers out of his mouth. "Firstly, who's gym sock is that? Disgusting. Secondly, Eighteen isn't coming for you, Trunks. You can untwist your panties."

"Bullshit."

"I assume she didn't follow you?"

Trunks frowned suspiciously. "She left to make a plan."

"Good guess, but no. Having two of us fight a crowd is just not sporting anymore. We agreed if either of us ever got captured the other would leave them alone for a few days. Let us have some fun," he smiled mischievously.

Trunks flipped around, turning to his ragtag militia. "Don't listen to him. This is a trick. I want five men posted at the door at  _ all _ times. If you see Eighteen or even just something out of the ordinary, fire immediately. It might slow her down."

The men agreed, some saluting sloppily.

Trunks sighed, face falling slightly. "And thank you, all of you. I know how dangerous this detail is. I promise to be here as often as I possibly can until Mom figures out how to kill him. If it comes to hand to hand,  _ I _ will fight Eighteen. I don't want any of you risking your lives unnecessarily. I took him down, I can get her as well."

Seventeen chuckled. "Took me down. Have you told anyone why I was distracted, Sexy?"

Trunks shoved the rag back in Seventeen's mouth. He turned to face the room. " _ No one _ speaks to him. Understand? Nothing good can come of it." The soldiers nodded. Trunks leaned a little closer to his mother. "That means you too, Mom."

Bulma's eyes widened, and she cocked her head to the side. "Trunks Briefs, did you just try to give  _ me _ an order?"

"No, I just think you should--"

"That's  _ enough _ ," Bulma snapped, standing up to her full height that still left her several inches shorter than her son. "I've been working to get rid of the androids since you were in  _ diapers _ , Young Man. Or did you forget that I was the one who  _ developed _ the weapon that incapacitated him in the first place. You can play soldier all you like but don't you dare try to--"

"Okay, okay," Trunks said, face turning red.

"-- twenty-two years old and thinking I'm gonna just fall in line, I am your  _ mother _ . I swear the older you get the more like your father--"

"I'm  _ sorry _ ," he said, cutting her off, looking properly chastised. "Can you just promise me you'll be careful?"

Seventeen chuckled through the gag in his mouth. Trunks kicked his leg. He laughed harder.

"Yes, I'll be careful. If you insist on keeping him in the bunker, I'll be needing my lab equipment."

"I'll have it carried in for you," Trunks nodded. "Get back to the house and make a list, and we can have everything here for you in a few hours. How long do you think it'll take to find his 'off' switch or whatever?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Bulma said. "I'm assuming Gero had some intense security on his systems. Plus I have to find where the port to his software is, so we have to search him."

Trunks frowned. "He can't be let out of the chair. Sorry Mom, that's firm. He'll escape, and he'll kill you."

Seventeen said something muffled behind his gag.

"Oh for Kami's sake," Bulma rolled her eyes. She pulled the gag out and tossed it across the room. "Go ahead."

"I was  _ going _ to say, keep that disgusting thing out of my mouth and I'll just  _ tell _ you where the port is. I'm fascinated to see you try to get through the firewall, but I'll warn you now it's impossible. We've tried."

"You're just going to help us shut you down?" Trunks spat skeptically.

"Aw, you sound disappointed, Trunks," Seventeen smirked. "Were you really hoping to frisk me? You can still try if you want. The port could be  _ anywhere _ , after all, you may have to do a  _ thorough _ examination."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "The sooner he's dead the better, Mom. Let me know how we can help you."

"But you already know it's not in my mouth, right?" Seventeen continued, tilting his head.

Trunks went red again, turning back to his men and trying to ignore him. "I need to train before the end of the day, and I'll get a few hours of sleep. I'll be back in exactly six hours. If he makes a wrong move, if he  _ blinks _ too hard, hit him with the EMP Staff again."

"What's he talking about Trunks?" Bulma asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He kissed me," Seventeen said flatly.

" _ You _ and your weird ass sister  _ tried _ to kiss  _ me _ ," Trunks said, turning to point at him accusingly. "He never even made contact."

"Oh you  _ liar _ ," Seventeen laughed, "yes I did."

"I dodged out of the way."

"He slipped me tongue."

"I did  _ not _ !"

"Okay, okay," Seventeen said cheerfully. "He didn't slip me tongue, but it was a  _ good _ kiss. My port is on the back of my neck, Miss Bulma."

Trunks took a step towards the android, raising his fist, but Bulma put a hand on his chest. "I need my equipment. I've got a lot of work ahead."


	2. Chapter 2

Bulma cursed under her breath as the screen blinked red again. "Son of a  _ bitch _ ."

Seventeen smiled mildly at the ceiling. He had very limited mobility inside his chains, and he couldn't actually turn around far enough to see the scientist working behind him. A few of Trunks' men sat far away at the entrance, talking casually out of earshot in the wide room.

"No luck?" 

"This guy made backups to his backups, and I think the passwords change periodically. Then even if you get through one of them, you have a time limit to get to the next level. It's like throwing knives at flies from a hundred yards."

"He was a thorough bastard," Seventeen nodded thoughtfully. 

It was late; he could tell, even in his windowless bunker. A few of the men were yawning, and their shift had only just started. They were all too far away for any meaningful conversation. His only option was the middling smalltalk he'd been making with his would-be hacker.

"So," he said, trying to start a new conversation, "what's your favorite food?"

"Pre-apocalypse or mid-apocalypse?" She asked, not even glancing up. They'd been making casual conversation for hours now, and the novelty had worn off.

"Oh, touche," he smirked. "Pre-apocalypse."

"I was always a big fan of surf and turf. Haven't had it in years."

"Oh, bouji. That's lobster and steak, right? Never tried lobster."

"It's sweeter than you'd think it is. Not a sea food fan?"

"Fish is fine, I just didn't have lobster and steak money. I leaned more towards popcorn shrimp and weed."

"You're using the past tense. Do you eat anymore?"

"I can. He left us the ability to taste and process food. Don't need it. Food is energy, and I get energy from other sources."

"What other sources?"

He shrugged. "Not sure, but I wouldn't tell you anyway. I'm just curious what you can do on your own, I'm not actively suicidal."

"Fair enough."

The door to the bunker opened, and Seventeen caught a familiar silhouette against the dim moonlight. Trunks nodded to his men, heading for the two of them without glancing at Seventeen.

"Hey, Trunks," Seventeen smiled wickedly. "Did you come to join our sleepover?"

"Mom, it's late," he said, ignoring his greeting and walking right past him. "You've been at this for hours. Maybe you should take a break."

Bulma sighed and rubbed her eyes. "What if I'm close?"

"You're not," Seventeen informed her, "but your optimism is adorable."

"I'll watch over him," Trunks promised. "Please, go eat and sleep, I'll be right here when you get back."

"Oh, yeah, we'll have a great night," Seventeen rolled his head back to look at them. "We'll make s'mores and stay up late, and both of us have hair that's long enough to braid--"

"I  _ will _ gag you," Trunks snapped at him.

The android snorted. "Bold of you to assume I would gag on anything you--"

"Okay, okay," Bulma said, standing up. "I'll go take a nap."

"We'll be here, Miss Bulma," Seventeen smiled at her, "just imagining what lobster tasted like."

"Goodnight, Honey," she said, pecking Trunks once on the cheek. Bulma waved once to Seventeen, walking out through the armed guards and heading back towards her quarters.

Trunks dragged Bulma's chair up a bit for a better view of the android, and then plopped down in it with his arms crossed a few yards away. Seventeen snorted. 

"You could sit closer. I won't bite."

Trunks said nothing, keeping his steely gaze on the android.

"So this is how we're going to spend the time, eh? You're going to mean mug me in sullen silence until your mother wakes up?"

Trunks didn't even blink.

"Not much of a conversationalist, I see. Fine, I'll just speak for both of us. Your mother is interesting, I'm glad she's still alive. Most mice we see nowadays just scream and run away, it's incredibly boring. She's intelligent. She won't get past any of Gero's firewalls, but--"

Trunks stood up and grabbed a cloth gag from his pocket, moving toward him.

"Hey, don't! Would it interest you to know that I know exactly where I am?"

Trunks paused. "No, you don't. You're bluffing."

"We're in what used to be a garden at Capsule Corp, since converted into an 'Android Bunker'. The majority of the human population left on Earth live in the abandoned subway station about three blocks away. You and Miss Bulma still sleep at Capsule Corp, in the ruined basement."

Trunks gaped at him. "She… my mother  _ told _ you--"

"Oh, of course not. I've known where you all were for years now."

Trunks scoffed. "If you had known, you'd have killed us all."

"Not true, clearly. Where's the fun in that? Some days our only excitement comes when you show up to try and murder us. If we wiped out  _ everything _ you cared about you wouldn't keep trying."

Trunks sat back down, a look of complete disgust written on his face. "What is  _ wrong _ with you?"

"At the moment? My nose itches and my hands are encased in ballistics gel. I could burn it off but you'd probably get pissy and not want to talk anymore."

"You really don't care about fucking  _ anything _ ," Trunks spat. "I bet I could kill your sister and you'd just shrug it off. I know Mom thinks you were human at one point, but I have my doubts. No human being could do what you have done."

"I've heard this song before," Seventeen rolled his eyes. "Don't you have any other albums besides 'You Killed All My Father Figures, Fuck You Seveteen, Specifically'?"

"How about 'You're a Shitty Kisser, Seventeen' Volume Two?"

Seventeen scoffed delightedly. "A  _ joke.  _ Oh my gods, the Saiyan is capable of humor!"

"Of course I am.  _ You're _ the robot."

"And it was almost a  _ good _ joke," the android continued. "But it would have been better if it wasn't a total lie. It was a damn good kiss."

"That's not even what it was. You attacked me."

"With my mouth. On your mouth. That's a kiss."

"It's a dirty tactic to throw your opponent off balance."

"Is that what you thought? No, I was just horny. The only interesting people I ever see are you and my sister, and I'm not a hillbilly. You just don’t know what a good kiss is because you’re such a virgin."

Trunks rolled his eyes. “I'm twenty-two, not twelve.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad, some people are just late bloomers, and what with most other humans being dead and all--”

"I'm not a virgin."

"What if missionary in the dark on a mattress didn't count? Would you be a virgin then?"

He took a second too long in answering.

"I fucking knew it."

Trunks brandished the cloth gag. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Do you ever stop threatening to shove things into the mouths of men you've tied up?"

"I don't do that."

"I'm the first? You know how to make a guy feel special. I don't know where you think the night will take us but my safe word is cinnamon."

"This little distraction game you're trying is never going to work. You may as well drop the shit."

"Distraction game?"

"The ridiculous flirting. I'm not an idiot, or a desperate man. If you think I'd actually untie you and let you get the upper hand--"

"I'm no tease, Saiyan," he smirked, "and I could break out of this bunker in minutes if I wanted to. Send your men out and untie me for fifteen minutes and I'll let you fuck me on the floor like a whore before you tie me back up."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

"Unless our boy is more of a sub?" Seventeen perked up an eyebrow. "I could top, I've never had any complaints before. Hell, in that case you don't even have to untie me, just get on and ride. I won't even tell anyone, scout's honor."

"Right, like you're a Boy Scout."

"I was actually," Seventeen mused. "An Eagle Scout, by the end."

Trunks was about to say how much he doubted that, when he glanced lower. His face twisted in shock. "Are you  _ hard _ ?"

"Duh, you keep making me picture fucking you. Settle a bet between me and Eighteen, are Saiyan cocks longer or just girthier than humans? We figure it has to be one or the other."

Trunks leaned forward, chuckling once. "I would  _ never _ degrade myself by touching you."

"Damn. Got any horny soldiers? Gender doesn't matter."

"None desperate enough for you."

"You can stop insulting me, I'm already hard," he sighed at the ceiling. "It's probably been while for Miss Bulma, right? Do I have a shot there?"

"Shut up."

"She's a little older, but so am I, technically. I'm almost old enough to be your father--"

"I said shut your mouth!" Trunks snapped.

"Damn, take a joke," Seventeen rolled his eyes. "I forgot how bad your daddy issues are."

"I'm not interested in discussing my father with the monster who put him in the ground," Trunks spat coldly, all levity gone from his voice.

"That was Eighteen, actually. Don't get me wrong, I  _ would _ have killed him, but it was her turn. Don't go aiming all of your rage towards her now though, I want some of it. If it helps even us out I  _ was _ the one who dealt the killing blow to Gohan."

Trunks' hand clamped down around his neck. He squeezed, hard, but the android didn't actually have to breathe. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Finally, Trunks spoke, loosening his grip. "Wow. You're good. For half a minute, I almost forgot what you are." 

"Don't forget. If you don't hate me, then keeping you alive is pointless.

Trunks pushed the gag in the android's mouth, and sat back in his chair.

They didn't speak again until sunrise.

\-------------------

"Can I have coffee, too?" Seventeen asked, trying to look behind him at the blue haired scientist attempting to hack into his system.

"No," Trunks answered for her. He stood nearby his working mother, keeping his eyes on the still prisoner.

"It'd be hard to drink without using your hands," Bulma mused calmly.

Seventeen took a deep breath, inhaling the bittersweet odor of her coffee. "I'm impressed. How do you still have coffee beans?"

"I can sacrifice plenty of things, but not my morning coffee," she explained. "I send Trunks out to scavenge distant cities when I start to get low."

"Mom," Trunks said lowly, "you shouldn't be giving away our scheduling habits."

"You think we don't notice you zipping off every few months?" Seventeen asked. "We just didn't know what the hell you were doing. Tell you what, Miss Bulma, make Trunks go pour me a cup and I'll go out of my way not to destroy any coffee shop ever again."

Bulma hummed thoughtfully. "Will you throw in tea shops as well?"

" _ Mom _ ."

" _ Relax _ , Trunks, I'm kidding. You know I don't share my coffee…" she trailed off, frowning at the screen in front of her.

"Is something wrong?" Trunks asked, taking a step toward her.

His mother's face broke out in a wide smile. "And there's the first fly."

Seventeen let out a surprised shout as a jolt of adrenaline and electricity ran from the back of his neck out to his limbs. "What the  _ fuck _ is that?"

"You did it?" Trunks asked. "Can you kill him?"

"I doubt it, not yet," Bulma said, continuing to type. "I'm only through the first firewall, there could be dozens. It'd be foolish for vital functions to be here."

Seventeen's calm demeanor dropped. "What did… how did you do it? How did you crack through? It's impossible, we've tried everything--"

"Yeah, well, I'm a genius," Bulma shrugged matter-of-factly. "Gero was okay, but there's a reason Capsule Corp outpaced him at every turn. It looks like the only thing on this level is a dampener, currently functioning correctly."

"What does it dampen?" Trunks asked. "Could it lower his defenses?"

"One way to find out," Bulma said. She pressed a button.

A gut wrenching scream passed Seventeen's lips. In an instant, pain erupted through his body. His mind scrambled for reason, help, an explanation, anything. Thoughts he hadn't known he'd been holding back came to the surface, and he felt what was left of his heart race up to painful, inhuman speeds.

_ What happened to me? _

_ Where is Lazuli? _

_ Why am I in pain? _

_ How long have I been like this? _

"What's wrong with him?" Trunks asked, watching the android scream.

"I don't know!" Bulma exclaimed. "It's either doing something to him, or it  _ stopped _ doing something." She clicked on the dampener. "I can't reactivate it."

"Trunks!" The android yelled suddenly. His hands came up and instantly blasted the ballistics gel around them.

Trunks' men came forward, taking aim with their useless guns as Seventeen broke from the chair with ease, dropping down to the ground. He ignored them, curling around his middle and feeling, for the first time, if there was something there out of place. A human instinct, long dormant, told him to seek an end. Too much damage, irreparable, his organs would never function right with the unnatural weight of foreign objects inside him.

"Trunks," he said again, looking up to see the Half Saiyan standing over him threateningly. "Mercy."

Trunks' eyes went wide. "Mercy? After everything you've done, you want us to  _ help _ ? You think we'll just let you escape--"

"No," Seventeen gasped. "Mercy. Kill me. Please."

Trunks stopped, speechless as he stared down. "Why would--"

"It's hell," Seventeen moaned against the floor. "Fuck, fuck! Just kill me, let me die."

Trunks didn't respond. Seventeen forced his face up to look at his would-be executioner. He grabbed at Trunks’ pantleg, and the Half Saiyan automatically reached down to grasp Seventeen’s wrist.

Even that much contact, skin against his skin for the first time in such a long, long time, was jarring. Too much, not enough, and far too late to make him feel better. Seventeen grasped at Trunk’s hand like a drowning man, pulling himself to his knees.

“What’s wrong with you?” Trunks asked.

Seventeen would have laughed, had he been capable. That was a question Trunks had asked him many times before, but never like this. Never so close that he could smell the sweat from the man’s skin, feel the pulse of his unaltered heart through his wrist. Never with this inflection, like he wasn’t marveling at his inhumanity but offering help, pity, and maybe,  _ maybe  _ comfort.

“Please.”

“I… I don’t know how,” Trunks said. “We’ve been trying to kill you, we don’t know how to do it.”

Seventeen put his free hand over his own eyes. The light was bright, his lungs burned from disuse, and he was so,  _ so _ hungry. If he couldn't die, then he had to tend to this pain, this burning, eclipsing need. They’d never help him here. If he wanted relief, he would have to seek it on his own.

Seventeen shot straight up, flying towards the roof of the bunker. He tore through the layers of metal easily, as he knew he would, but for the first time it hurt to do so. He felt the metal scrape against his skin, unable to pierce it but plenty strong enough to sting. The night air was cold, and he’d forgotten what real cold felt like. He set course for Nikki Town, glancing behind him to see if the foolish army was following him.

All he saw was Trunks, floating above the ruined ceiling of the bunker, watching him go in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

His sister was not hard to find. Before he'd lost consciousness the day before, what felt like a decade ago, she'd casually mentioned Nikki Town so he knew where to find her. Eighteen made quite a noise in the abandoned city, casually flinging anything she could get her hands on toward the side of an empty hospital. Seventeen flew toward her lopsidedly, and she didn't notice his distress immediately.

"About time you show up," she called. "I invented a new game. Window tick-tack-toe. We pick a grid on the side of the building and try to break  _ only _ one window at a time until we get three in a row."

Seventeen touched down onto the pavement and did not manage to keep his footing. He stumbled to the ground, failing to even catch himself on his hands that were still firmly wrapped around his middle. Eighteen paused, her eyebrows pulling together as she regarded him.

"What's wrong with you?"

Seventeen breathed against the road, and gods he could  _ smell _ it. Did everything in this city smell like death? Death and decay and abandonment. 

"Help me," was all he choked out.

She didn't move. "What did the humans do to you? If they actually hurt you I swear I'll--"

" _ Help _ me, Lazuli," he asked again.

She frowned deeply. "Why would you call me that?"

"It's your name."

"I'm Eighteen, you know that." She knelt anyway, lifting him easily. "What do you need?"

"I don't know. Everything. Food, water, warmth, a place to lay down. Pain killers."

She perked an eyebrow up, but he felt her fly up from the pavement towards the hospital. They went through a window she had already shattered, and she sat him down on a dusty bed. He laid back against the sheets, closing his eyes to relish in the softness. He'd forgotten what softness felt like.

She picked a discarded blanket from the ground and shook window glass out of it before she put it over him. "I will look for… the stuff you asked for," she said carefully.

He looked at her, trying to read her odd expression. It clicked suddenly, and he shook his head at her. "This isn't a trick, or a prank, or a game. Something's wrong with me, wrong with both of us."

"Sure," she muttered, in careful disbelief. "I'll be back in a minute."

Seventeen closed his eyes as soon as she was gone. He was  _ so _ tired, and he felt hungover. No… it was more than that. His whole body felt like it was in withdrawal, something he'd experienced before, but never to this extent. It was liked he'd been high for years,  _ decades _ maybe. Could that be true? What was in his system? What could he remember? He closed his eyes. Bits of it came back to him.

Tied down. They'd been tied down to the table, with straps of some kind. The man didn't bother to gag either of them; there was no one nearby to hear them anyway. They were in some kind of bunker underground, but he couldn't remember entering it. The man had just gathered his instruments, ignoring their yells and threats like they were just wailing animals, not two humans, almost children, pleading for their lives.

"Let my sister go," Seventeen mumbled into his hospital room. He could remember saying that. Offering to take her place, and swearing she wouldn't tell anyone what she'd seen. But Gero hadn't listened, hadn't cared. Then he'd made a deal of some kind… what deal? It was fuzzy.

Eighteen came back to him holding a bag of chips, bottled water, and a small bottle of pills. He was silently thankful that so much of Nikki Town was unlooted, because it was one of the first places they'd destroyed, way back then. 

"I'm not sure these will even work on us," Eighteen said, looking at the bottle. "Maybe you should take a few of--"

He grabbed the bottle from, pouring several into his hand and swallowing then with the bottle of water in one long swig.

"Or twelve, whatever. I doubt it'll do anything for you."

"I have to try," he muttered, opening the chips and popping one into his mouth. "They're so  _ stale _ ."

"What did you expect? They're super old, you've got absurd preservatives to thank for them even being edible. What's going on with you?"

He paused from inhaling his food to look up at her. "Can you… feel it too?"

"Feel  _ what _ ?"

"What he did to us. The machinery, the wiring, whatever it was. I can feel it, now. There's… bits and pieces in us that shouldn't be there, and important stuff that's missing. Like… what's wrong with my heart? It beats, but it beats  _ hard,  _ and I feel it all the way to my fingers. Can't you feel that?"

A thoughtful expression passed over her face. "Hmm. I guess so. I don't think it's new."

He looked at his hands. "The humans took something out of my head. What'd she call it? A… dampener. Maybe it stopped us from feeling… like  _ this _ . Wrong. Altered. Like a corpse propped up with wires and string. It hurts."

She crossed her arms. "Well alright then, let's go kick some human ass. We'll get them to put back whatever they took."

"No!" He said quickly.

She frowned. "I thought you said you needed it."

"I feel," he flexed his fingers, " _ alive _ . Or maybe just real, and like I haven't been in a long time. I don't  _ want _ it back."

"How come you're doing such human-y things?" She asked, pointing at the emptying bag of chips.

"I don't think pain was the only thing it kept below the surface," he frowned. "Do you remember how we got like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like  _ this, _ " he said, getting irritated. "Metal, fake,  _ dead _ . Killing all those…" his fists clenched, and he felt himself go pale. "Oh fuck… oh  _ fuck _ ."

She ignored his crisis, chewing on her cheek in thought. "We were made this way. A long time ago."

"Not originally."

"No, Gero did this. You know that. I know that."

"But why don't we  _ care _ ?"

"We do, that's why we killed him."

"We killed Gero because he wanted to control us, not out of revenge," he shook his head. "We didn't care what he'd done to us, just that we got to complete our objective. Destroy everything."

"What, you  _ don't _ want to destroy stuff now? What else is there to  _ do _ ?"

"We were fucking kidnapped, Laz. I can remember now. I think you can too, but the dampener stops it from being important. We were… on Third Street. You remember that club we found that didn't ID? Gero followed us out. We might've been able to take him, but we were both pretty fucked up and he had a taser or something--"

"What does it matter?" She shrugged, frowning. "He's dead, and we're not."

"I made a deal… I can't remember what it was."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

He examined her face. "We should go back to the humans. For you. Ask them to take your dampener off, too."

She backed up. "No way, you're acting crazy. If this is what it's preventing me from, I'll keep it thanks."

"It's like you're in prison," he said, shaking his head. "Do you trust me, Laz?"

" _ Stop _ calling me that," she snapped. "My name is Eighteen. Your name is Seventeen. I trust  _ normal _ you. Not when you're like this."

"You're wrong,  _ Eighteen _ ," he said, spitting out the name. "That's a number. You existed before the number. You're just too numb to…" he trailed off.

"What?"

"Numb. That was the deal I made. He wanted to perform his surgeries while we were awake, to see how we reacted to every change. He was going to split it between both of us, do half on me without anesthesia and half on you, and I made a deal. He agreed to do it all on me, awake, and let you sleep through it."

"I said I don't want to talk about this!" She snapped, blowing out the rest of the window with a blast from her fist.

Seventeen ignored her anger, laying back against the bed. "I need to sleep."

"Fine," she grumbled. "Sort yourself out. Find me later." She flew through the window, and in minutes he heard the sounds of destruction from far away.

He listened to the noise of crunching metal in the distance, and a million faces flashed in front of his eyes. A billion maybe? More? How many people had he killed since the change he'd experienced in Gero's lab?

Seventeen closed his eyes, and dreamed for the first time in his second life. 

\----------------------

A fire crackled down below the surface of the Earth, illuminating the faces of survivors who called the subterranean caverns home now. There weren't many of them left; their number was less than eighty now, and dwindling rather than rising. Regardless, the strength of the human spirit tended to shine in the dingy station anyway, and on most nights you could hear lively conversation and hope managing to survive alongside humanity.

As Trunks sat by the fire, he was forced to listen to the uncharacteristic silence in his home tonight. News of the android's escape had spread throughout the survivors, but not nearly as fast as the rumors of his own behavior from that morning.  _ 'Did you hear? Trunks tried to help him. He didn't go after him. Why not strike now when the android is clearly weakened?'  _ Of course they'd never say such a thing to his face, but he heard the whispers.

Trunks ate his meager dinner, staring into the flames and replaying the moment.  _ Why did I pause?  _ His heel bounced against the tiled floor. It had to be pity. He'd just been so used to helping anyone who asked for his mercy that he'd attempted to give it on instinct.  _ But then why didn't you go after him? _ That was harder to answer.

"Hey," a sweet voice said, suddenly standing by his brooding form.

He glanced up, attempting a weak smile. "Hey, Mai."

She sat down as though his greeting was an invitation, and he pretended it had been. There was nothing wrong with Mai. She was a great warrior, and kind too. Nothing wrong with Mai.

"Why didn't you stop him?" She asked bluntly.

Trunks snorted. That was another thing he knew well about Mai; she did not mince words. She said what she thought, and immediately. He'd found it efficient and refreshing when she'd first come to stay with the other survivors. But more recently… no, there was nothing wrong with Mai.

"I will kill him," he said simply. "As soon as Mom figures out how to."

"That wasn't the question I asked," she said. "And we need him here to discover how to kill him. Why didn't you  _ stop _ him?"

"I was taken by surprise," Trunks said flatly. "It won't happen again."

She seemed to accept that answer. "Do you want to stay in my bed tonight?"

Trunks rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I… I'm going after him. I'm not in shock anymore. Once I eat, I'll head out alone." The plan was news to both of them.

"I hope you return before I go to sleep," she said, putting her chin in her hand.

"Perhaps I will," he lied, setting his empty plate down and standings to fasten his sword to his back.

"Good luck," she said, smiling softly.

He nodded to her, returning the warm expression before he headed up the stairs into the night alone. The smile dropped from his face.

_ Definitely nothing wrong with Mai. Maybe something wrong with me. _

\--------------------------------------

Seventeen slept all day, and his first thought upon awakening was that painkillers did  _ not _ work on androids. He kept his eyes closed, rubbing his face. He sighed deeply, at least happy that he seemed to be settling into the pain that was nearly unbearable before. If he could sleep through it, it had to have been less intense than it was. He stretched languidly.

"Look at me," a voice said coldly above him.

Seventeen froze, immediately recognizing the voice. He let his pain fade to the background as a slow smile crept over his face. "And why would I do that, Trunks?"

"Because unlike some monsters, I won't kill a man without looking him in the eyes."

Seventeen snorted. "We both know damn well you don't know how to kill me. You can try to saw through my neck with that sword, but by my count you've tried that twice already." He opened his eyes to look at him, angling back his neck so that the blade Trunks held just above it had better access.

"Are you going to come back willingly?"

"Why would I do that?"

"You said you wanted death. I'd be more than happy to help you find it."

"I feel a bit less shitty than before. If you want me now you'll have to work for it. That is, if you want me  _ dead _ . If you want me, you're already holding me down to a bed."

Trunks sat back, setting the tip of his sword against the floor. "So what, you want me to use the EMP again? You want to be dragged back unconscious?"

"I'm not in the mood to entertain today," Seventeen said, sitting up and clutching at his back. "Seeing as it feels like a grenade went off in my gut."

"What happened?" Trunks asked, eyeing his clear distress. "When the dampener turned off, what happened to you?"

The android shrugged. "Whatever Gero did to stop me from being more…  _ me _ , switched off."

"What do you mean more 'you'?"

Seventeen took a deep breath. "Mmm. You smell like meat. Not even in a dirty way. Like cooked meat over a fire. Shit. I might have to start cooking again. I know I don't need the energy but I'm still  _ starving _ ." He stood and strolled towards the window, looking out over what was left of the city.

"Answer me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you won't believe me anyway, and it'll piss you off. Simpler this way."

"Spit it out," he ordered.

Seventeen sighed. "Fine. You want to know why the human population has been reduced to a little pile of mice underground? Because for the last two decades, every little bit that Gero put in me and Eighteen has functioned perfectly. Kept me from thinking too hard, or caring about carrying out my mission."

"What mission?"

He tapped his head. "Destroy. Everything."

Trunks thought for a moment, and then laughed darkly. "What, you're going to pretend every terrible thing you've done to the world was because of that dampener?"

"I told you it'd piss you off. You're welcome to not believe me. I can be convincing. He looked back at Trunks over his shoulder and growled. "See? Scary monster. Still perfectly slayable."

"You aren't escaping what you've done that easily."

"I didn't ask for forgiveness, I'm only stating fact. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it was all me. But I won't just lay down and die, not now. We're back to doing it the hard way."

"Don't expect me to have compassion for something like you. Maybe someone else might fall for this, but I've seen your evil up close."

Seventeen leaned against the wall. "Perhaps I've changed."

"That's not possible."

"You don't think a bad man can turn into a good man?"

Trunks' breath caught in his throat, and the android noticed.

"Oh, maybe you do. But wouldn't that just  _ burn _ ? Wouldn't it hurt to not have anyone left to blame for what you've lost? Best just to forget you ever asked."

"What are you doing in a hospital?"

"What does one normally do in a hospital? I'm leaving, soon. There's plenty of empty apartments in this city that haven't been completely decimated yet, and it's not like _ I _ have anyone to fear. An apartment would be an easier place to attend to these human comforts I seem to need again."

"And you think I'm just going to let you go?"

"More that I doubt you could drag me anywhere I didn't want to be. You've got no sneak attack left, Trunks, I know about your little toy. If you can't incapacitate me, we're back to just fighting until we tire each other out. If you insist, we can try that for the thousandth time. I'd rather just go about my night. Don't you have things you'd rather be doing than talking to me?"

"Apparently not," Trunks mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Seventeen smirked. "Aw. Getting bored by your own kind? Need some excitement? I have to admit I'm curious; our last kiss was good enough even with the dampener in place, I'm willing to bet it's three times as good with it off."

"I didn't come here because I wanted your company."

"Didn't you? You don't seem to be too damn eager to capture me."

Trunks turned his blade against the floor. "If I leave you tonight, and you kill someone, that person's death will be on my hands."

"I've no intention of killing anyone."

"So what, you're an angel now?"

"Hardly. But murder isn't on my shortlist at the moment."

Trunks sighed. "I'll be watching you."

Seventeen tilted his head. "Why?"  


"Maybe you're lying, maybe you're not. But if you were telling the truth, it would mean all we need to do is take your sister's dampener off as well. Then the killing would stop. I can put off revenge for that."

"I suppose that's true. What happens after that?"

"We don't need to know that yet," Trunks said. "Just… don't hurt anyone. I'll know if you do."

"Are you my probation officer now?"

"Call it what you want."

Seventeen stepped toward him. "I think you just want power over me, and this is the only way you're going to get it."

"I need to hear it. Say you'll behave if I leave you alone."

"I promise not to hurt anyone who doesn't say please and then thank me afterwards," Seventeen said, crossing his arms. "Does that suffice?"

"Fine," Trunks said, getting up from his seat. They stood inches away, a silent challenge still charged in the air between them. "I'll know. We'll be seeing each other again soon."

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Trunks brushed past him, starting to lift into the air through the broken window. Seventeen's hand grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling him back in.

"Oh, one more thing," the android said, bracing for his attack.

Trunks turned around, about to ask what he wanted. In one movement, Seventeen stepped forward and tangled his hands in Trunks' hair, forcefully pulling him into a kiss.

The Half Saiyan froze under his grasp, but didn't move. Seventeen soaked up a few precious seconds, and felt his body reacting in a way he'd missed.  _ Fuck, and I thought I was horny before _ , he thought to himself. Trunks lips were soft, only slightly chapped in the cold night air, and his mouth was warm. He stole the time he could, feeling like a thief in the night about to be brought to justice.

One of Trunks' hands touched the back of his head, and he braced himself, expecting the EMP to pierce through his skin again the way it had when he'd  _ last _ tried to kiss him. Trunks' fingers tightened in his hair. He kissed him back.

_ Holy fuck _ , Seventeen thought.

Trunks spun him slightly, and then his back was against the wall. The kiss turned frantic, and wild hands traveled. Seventeen's immediate erection strained desperately his clothing, and he threw one leg up around Trunks' hip bone. He felt the Half Saiyan's own physical need, hard and insistent as he rolled his hips against the android. Trunks pushed against him roughly, setting a sloppy rhythm as they sought for friction through their clothing. Seventeen moaned into the kiss, already having to hold back. Gods, it'd been  _ so _ long, if Trunks kept rolling his hips like that he'd push the android over the edge already, like he was just an oversensitive teenager.

Trunks broke from the kiss, suddenly, and they both breathed heavily from the same air. Trunks released him, scrambling back several feet as if he'd suddenly found himself faced with an unknown enemy. Seventeen was about to speak when the Half Saiyan turned on his heel, taking off through the window without another word. In his haste, his sword lay forgotten on the hospital room floor.

" _ Shit _ ," Seventeen breathed, reaching down to palm his own painful arousal. Well, as long as he was taking care of human needs he'd been neglecting...

\----------------------

Mai had just blown out the candles in her small canvas tent when she heard footsteps fast approaching. The main entrance was pulled back, and she knew Trunks' silhouette immediately.

She sat up. "Did you find the android?"

"No." Trunks was moving fast, pulling off his clothes as he crawled over her and kissed her hard against her low bed.

Mai chuckled softly. "What's gotten into y--"

"Don't talk," he requested, not cruelly, not harshly, but firmly.

She nodded, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he quickly pushed himself inside of her, burying his face in her long, dark hair.


	4. Chapter 4

On a long abandoned street corner stood a grocery store, not yet completely emptied out by the humans left alive. There was a very good reason for this; this particular street corner was in Nikki Town, a well known hub the androids often returned to. Any scavenging in Nikki Town was taboo, deemed far too dangerous, so no one ever went there. It was essentially off-limits.

That was, until the short address Trunks had given his people just that morning.

_ "Effective immediately, I am lifting the ban on scavenging in Nikki Town. This ban will remain lifted until further notice. Be aware, you still hunt there at your own risk." _

Most groups still wouldn't dare venture into the previously forbidden territory, but the three men now creeping among untouched shelves had decided it was worth the risk. The old man, Hessie, and his two adult sons, pushed through the old glass doors into a gold mine that night.

Batteries, oil, toilet paper, there were enough resources here to replenish completely non-existent stocks back in the subway. It was their excitement that caused them to be less careful, and gave away their position.

"Tin foil!" Hessie's eldest called, holding up the find.

His younger son snorted. "Don't waste a spot in the packs for that stuff. We've survived years without it, it's not essential."

"It has a million uses," his brother argued.

"That's  _ duct tape _ , and we have some of that."

"It's both."

"Enough," Hessie snapped. "We are losing the moonlight. We need to get back home before the sunrise."

His sons agreed, tying off their bags and throwing them over their shoulders. They made it as far as the front door before the figure stepped into their path.

Hessie's old veins went cold, and he heard one of his son's make a noise of regret. 

In front of them stood one of the androids; the male with sleek black hair and a bemused expression. They had seconds, maybe minutes if he could keep the monster entertained. Maybe, he thought, just maybe, if he managed to distract the android then one of his sons, both still with so much life before them, might escape to a hiding place. He had to try.

"Go, boys," Hessie whispered, pulling his old hunting knife from his belt.

He felt one of them grab his arm to stop him, but he shook it off.

"I said go," he whispered, trying to pour a lifetime of love for the two of them into an order. "Tell your mother I--"

"Not to break up this touching moment," Seventeen drawled, "but so you know what a store is?"

Hessie blinked. "E...excuse me?"

"A  _ store _ . Marketplace? Shop? You go somewhere, get what you want to buy, and then pay the owner. Understand?"

Hessie said nothing, still looking ready to throw himself to the wolves.

Seventeen rolled his eyes. "Listen, mice, I saw you hunting this morning. You have a few dead rabbits, right?"

"Uh… yes," Hessie's eldest nodded.

"Then give them to me, and leave."

"Leave?" Hessie asked voice shaking.

" _ Yes _ . Pay me with meat, and then get the hell out with your shit. Unless you'd  _ rather  _ I kill all of you?"

They stared at him a long moment, and then Hessie's son slowly handed the rabbits over to the android.

" _ There _ you go," Seventeen said, nodding like he was dealing with toddlers. "I was starting to wonder if you actually spoke English. Now get out, and don't come back without more meat."

Hessie and his sons eased around the android like he might snap on them at any moment. Seventeen waited with crossed arms, watching them go. He watched the humans break into a run, leaving the stench of fear and adrenaline behind them. He leaned against the doorway, facing outside in silence.

"For the record," he said into the silence, "Davy Crocket and his hick boys may not have noticed you, but I did. Don't delude yourself." He stepped away without another word, carrying his rabbits over his shoulder.

Trunks slowly stepped away from his hiding place behind the counter, watching the android go. Five days now. In five days, with several opportunities, the android had not harmed a single person.

\-----------------------

  
  


Trunks walked alone through the cemetery behind Capsule Corp. As graveyards went, this was a young one. Everyone buried here had been interred within the young man's lifetime, though some of them long enough ago that he had no memories of them. So many bodies still laid out there in the decimated world, most only bones by now. Bulma, however, had insisted on having certain people buried close to her, apocalypse be damned. Now any one of their number who died close enough for their bodies to be retrieved would be buried here with honor as well.

He stopped first, as usual, at Gohan's grave. He was buried between his parents, both in the ground long before him. He could barely remember Chichi, if he tried, and he couldn't remember Goku at all. Mom talked about him sometimes, said the world would have been different if he hadn't gotten the virus. Trunks couldn't really imagine one person making much of a difference in the chaos that followed.

He thought he remembered some of the others, but it was possible he'd just heard so much about them that he thought he did. Krillin, Yamcha, Tien, he knew only their memories in the vaguest since. He stopped by one grave, sitting down on a small stone bench his mother had placed there a long time ago.

_ Here lies Vegeta, Prince Of All Saiyans _

_ My Bad Man _

Trunks stared at his father's grave, wondering again. It wasn't as if his mother had hidden much from him; she'd told him who Vegeta had been, about his Saiyan heritage, what he was. He knew he had been a prince, and was at least a little stubborn, considering that whenever he acted hard-headed his mother would accuse him of being 'just like his father'. He'd seen the few pictures they had. He knew he was less than a year old when his father fell to the androids, but that Vegeta had held him before going off to his death. 

But it was the inscription that bothered him.

He sat for a long time, and eventually he heard his mother approaching. He wasn't sure if she was looking for him specifically, or if she was just making one of her personal trips to the cemetery, but once she saw him she headed straight for him. Bulma stepped behind her son, touching his shoulder.

"You okay, Honey?"

"Yeah," he said automatically, unsure if it was a lie. "I'm okay."

She snorted, looking beyond Trunks to the headstone. " _ He'd _ never tell me when he was upset either. It wasn't hard to figure out though, he was a total drama queen. He'd start calling me 'Woman' and pout in the Gravity Room for a few hours. Eventually he'd break something and come looking for me to yell about me fixing it, and we'd start up again."

Trunks frowned up at her. "You mean he hit you?"

She snorted. "No. I said 'start up again' because I figured you didn't want to hear about us having angry sex in my lab."

Trunks shivered. "Ew, Mom."

"You asked," she chuckled.

"Why 'Bad Man'?" He asked boldly. "Why did you put that on his headstone?"

Bulma smiled wistfully. "That was my nickname for him."

"But  _ why _ ? Was he a good person or not?"

His mother paused, staring at the stone. "Vegeta was… a work in progress. He did some things before he…" she looked at her son, and he saw her gathering her courage. "Trunks, he loved us. Both of us."

"That's not what I--"

"Give me a damn minute, I'm getting there. Before your father came to Earth, he was a member of the Frieza Force. This tyrant asshole, Frieza, took over half the universe, and used his army to do it. Your father followed orders… enthusiastically, back then. He destroyed a lot. Whole planets sometimes."

Trunks blinked, staring at the stone.

"But it wasn't  _ him _ . Not really. Vegeta was never really himself without me, he was just a product of his environment. The man  _ I _ knew, he was good. He cared about us, he fought to save the Earth. If he'd had just a little more time…" she shook her head sadly. "He'd have stayed with us. I know it. If the androids had been defeated, Vegeta would have stayed with us, and the whole world would have been able to see him the way I did. It feels like a cruel joke that it didn't happen that way. I called him Bad Man, because we knew better. The rest of the universe saw that when they looked at him, but I knew it was an act."

"How did you know, for sure? How did you know he wouldn't go back to the way he was?"

"I guess I didn't  _ know _ . Normally I want evidence, something I can hold in my hands as proof, but I didn't need that from Vegeta. I'd just look into his eyes, and I was sure. Simple as that." She kissed the top of his head.

Trunks nodded, taking a deep breath.

\--------------

Trunks walked up a long flight of stairs, feeling very awkward. If it weren't for the eerie silence of the brick apartment building, he might have been able to convince himself he was visiting a friend, pre-apocalypse. He'd never had the chance to do that; by the time he had been old enough to want to visit anyone, the androids had killed off most of the world.

He reached the fourth floor and approached the only door he could hear movement behind. He paused. Should he knock? It would be polite. Did this situation call for politeness? Maybe he shouldn't even have come in the front door, maybe he should sneak up the fire escape instead…

"You can come in, Saiyan," Seventeen called through the door. "Unless you're trying to be the world's worst peeping Tom. If you come to the window, I'll strip."

Trunks cleared his throat, opening the door.

Seventeen laid back on a ratty couch, a book held loosely in one hand and his legs thrown over an arm rest. The smell of boiling stew wafted through the modest living space, cleaned up to the point of livability. The android didn't stand, perking an eyebrow at his guest.

"Can I help you?"

Trunks closed the door behind him, moving to stand closer to the coffee table. "I came to--"

"To what? Check on me? See if there's any fresh blood on my hands? You'd know, you've been following me all damn week."

"Not exactly," Trunks said, awkwardly rubbing his neck. "I wanted to see if you… took my sword. I checked the hospital where I left it, and it was gone."

Seventeen grinned, setting his book down on the coffee table. "Oh you mean the sword you forgot after you kissed me? Are we going to talk about that now?"

"And yes," he said, ignoring the question, "I'm also here to check up on you. But I mostly want my sword."

Seventeen gestured vaguely to the right, and Trunks saw his sword propped up against a corner. "And here I thought it was your excuse."

"Excuse for what?"

"Like the Saiyan equivalent of leaving your boxers on my bedroom floor so you have a reason to come see me next time."

Trunks ignored him again. "This new thing you've been doing, extorting my people for food--"

" _ Bargaining _ ," Seventeen corrected. 

"If the alternative to the bargain is death, it's extortion."

"Call it what you want. Would you rather I go back to wanton murder and destruction?"

"Let me finish. I was going to say, it's sustainable, for now. Word is starting to get out that you're… different. More and more parties are talking about coming to Nikki Town, and bringing game with them for you. If we aren't afraid of your base towns, that leaves a lot of potential for us. Unlooted shops, intact apartments like this one… but your sister--'

"Leave her out of this."

"I can't. She's still killing. Albeit she seems to have slowed down, but one of our scouting parties lost a man to her a few days back. They said she made him play chess for his life, and he lost."

"She cheats, she always cheats," Seventeen chuckled.

"I'm glad you find more death amusing," Trunks said darkly.

"Oh, lighten up, she doesn't understand what she's doing. With that dampener on--"

"I know. That's why our options have to be turning it off, or killing her."

" _ We _ don't have those options, because I would never stand against her with you."

"What, are you afraid of her?"

"Of course not," he shook his head. "I love her." Trunks tried to speak but Seventeen cut in. "You can't understand. I gave things up for Lazuli that I never thought I could live without. Hell, we were on the street together because  _ she _ couldn't stand living at home. If you ask me to force her to do jack shit I won't help you, and I  _ might _ help her. You're cute, Trunks. But not that cute."

The Half Saiyan was staring at him.

"What?"

"I didn't know… her name."

"Oh. Well don't use it, she doesn't like it anymore. Now stop being a bummer and come make out with me on this filthy couch."

Trunks scoffed, looking down at the floor. "Look, I don't know what you  _ think _ happened, but--"

Seventeen snorted loudly. "What I  _ think _ happened? I think you dry humped me against the wall of a hospital room and then left me with a hard on and an  _ impossible _ fetish. In a world with no internet do you know how hard it is to find gay porn of a bodybuilder with purple hair?"

" _ You _ kissed  _ me. _ "

"Oh, and you fought against it so hard. No one else is here, Trunks, there's no need to lie. No one has to know you're fucking the enemy, they'll just think you're 'watching' me. I can keep a secret."

"I don't…"

Seventeen stood, stalking toward the Saiyan. "You don't what?"

"I'm not into men. I have a… girlfriend."

Seventeen stared at him a moment, making a sound of disbelief in his throat.

"What?" 

He stepped closer to the Half Saiyan. "You're fucking with me."

" _ What _ ?" Trunks snapped again.

Seventeen crowded into his space, pushing Trunks back against the wall by his chest. Trunks' eyebrows pulled together as he watched the android's face carefully, clearly ready for a fight.

He moved forward until he was almost flush against Trunks, so close he had to lean his head back to talk, and the Half Saiyan made no move to stop him. His hand slid up just slightly, fingertips touching Trunks' throat.

"You can  _ hate _ me, in fact I encourage it. You can think I'm a monster and be too repulsed to touch me. But if you are trying to pretend you're not  _ attracted _ to me, especially for a reason as ridiculous as gender, then you're a fucking liar."

"I'm not."

Seventeen's other hand slipped down and cupped Trunks' growing arousal. The Half Saiyan sucked in a breath, eyes still locked with his.

"You're getting hard for me, Ladies' Man," Seventeen smirked at him wickedly. "Just like you did the last time you kissed me. Or are we still pretending that didn't happen?"

Trunks said nothing, not reacting at all until Seventeen started to stroke him through his pants. They kissed, once, slowly, and then Seventeen pulled his face away. Trunks mouth dropped open and his eyes closed as he let out a shuddering breath.

"If you don't want me, stop me," Seventeen challenged. "We both know you're strong enough to do it. Move my hand. Stop letting me touch you."

Trunks said nothing, and Seventeen felt him leaning reluctantly into his hand.

The android dropped to his knees, drawing Trunks' attention. He boldly undid Trunks' pants, pulling them down with his boxers in one movement. Trunks' hard cock bobbed free, a drop of precum formed at the tip.

Seventeen maintained eye contact with him, his tongue snaking out to touch his upper lip. "Say it. Tell me you want me."

"N-no," he stuttered slightly.

"I won't do it until you ask for it," Seventeen whispered, his hot breath rolling over Trunks' need.

"I…" Trunks gulped.

"Admit it. Tell me you want my lips wrapped around your cock. Tell me this isn't the first time you've imagined me on my knees." He licked the single drop of precum off of Trunks' tip.

A long moment passed. Trunks' hand, shaking slightly, touched the back of Seventeen's head. "Please. Please."

Seventeen grinned, deciding that was almost close enough. He took Trunks' engorged head into his mouth, teasing the tip with his tongue.

"I want it," Trunks breathed. "Fuck you, I want it."

Seventeen smiled. Better. He took Trunks deeper into his mouth, down into his throat. He set a steady pace, knowing exactly what he was doing, exactly how to drive the man crazy.

" _ Shit _ ," Trunks whispered. "I shouldn't be… you shouldn't…"

"Shh," Seventeen whispered back. "Just enjoy it."

Trunks  _ was _ enjoying it, Seventeen could tell by his sharp gasps and subdued moans. Shame rolled off of the man in waves as well, but instead of putting the android off, he found it thrilling. To be wanted this much, even though Trunks obviously had some hangups, had his own cock throbbing with arousal. He used one of his own hands to start seeking release, and eased back to whisper to Trunks.

"Can  _ she _ touch you like this? Can she make you beg?"

"No," Trunks gulped. "Can… will you…"

Seventeen smiled; he knew this part. Back when he was human, he almost never made it all the way through a blowjob. He was good, he'd get their motor running and before they finished they'd beg him to let them fuck him.  _ 'Will you get yourself ready for me?' 'Will you bend over the table?'  _ That's what he thought Trunks was going to say. He wasn't prepared.

"Will you tell me your name?"

Seventeen's heart skipped a beat, staring up at him. "What? Why?"

"Because I'm tired of fucking fantasizing about a number," Trunks grumbled.

"My name was… is Lapis." He took Trunks back into his mouth, moving faster than before, deliberately making Trunks cry out in pleasure before he had a chance to process what had just transpired between them. He stroked himself with his other hand, faster and faster, staring up at Trunks' face.

"Gods… Lapis…" he muttered, threading his fingers back through the android's hair. "I can't… I can't stop thinking about your body. What are you doing to me?"

And there it was, his name coming from another person's lips for the first time in decades. He had a sudden urge that he  _ needed _ to make Trunks cum for that, needed to mark the occasion. He took the Half Saiyan deep in his throat, swallowing around him to try and make him climax.

He didn't expect the rough hands that grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up from his knees. For a brief moment he thought it was rejection, finally clicking in Trunks' brain, but the immediate kiss on his lips banished that thought. Trunks pushed him hard onto the floor and was on top of him in an instant, pulling off Seventeen's pants with enough urgency to rip them at the seams. He kicked his own away, seeking his kiss again as he grasped both of their cocks in his fist, thrusting against him.

" _ Fuck _ ," Seventeen breathed, legs spread as he bucked up against Trunks. Their lips met again and again, gasping for breath in the brief moments in between. The underside of Trunks' erection dragged along his own, setting a fire that burned up through every inch of his body.

The android threw his head back, exposing his neck, and Trunks happily took it, teeth locking gently onto the soft flesh. The android pulsed hard, cumming hard into the narrow space between their bodies. When he felt Trunks take that cum and use it help stroke himself he felt like he could finish again, just from the thought.

The Half Saiyan was less than a minute behind him, grunting in his ear as he coated their stomachs with more evidence of their lust. The only sound was their labored breathing until Seventeen moved his head, whispering hotly in Trunks' ear.

"Can she make you cum like that?"

He snorted, leaning back to face him, but making no move to get off of him. "No."

"Is this the part where you run away?"

"It doesn't… have to be."

Seventeen raised an eyebrow at him.

"I just mean…" he sighed. "I'm going to keep checking up on you, because I have to. And if every time I come to check on you, you look at me like  _ that… _ I'm not sure I…"

Seventeen grinned wickedly, dragging his fingers up Trunks' chest. "Are you saying you can't resist me?"

Trunks let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. "If I could I wouldn't be on the damn floor right now." He looked at him, locking eyes with the android. "This changes nothing, you know. I can't stop myself from touching your body, but I still fucking hate you for what you've done."

"Good. Don't forget it."

Trunks sheepishly rose from the floor, cleaning himself up with Seventeen's ruined pants before refastening his own.

"Oh shit, I have to go clothes shopping now," Seventeen mused, touching the torn fabric. "Don't make a habit of that."

"Don't tell me what to do, Android."

Seventeen smiled. "Ah, there's my angry Savior of Humanity. I was worried you were going soft on me, but the post-nut clarity brought you back."

"I'll be watching this week. Any slip-ups, and I'll be waiting to use the EMP and drag you back."

"It's hard to take your threats seriously with some of my cum on your shirt."

"What!" Trunks said immediately looking down. A small stain was present on the hem of his shirt that he'd never taken completely off. "Damn it!"

"Oh relax, it's not noticeable. Even if it was, your little girlfriend would probably think it's yours. Just tell her you thought about her while hunting me down and had to take matters into your own hands. She doesn't need to know you prefer cock."

"I never said that," Trunks snapped, back to his argumentative self. 

"Did you really have to?" Seventeen smirked, still reclining half naked on the floor.

Trunks strode over and grabbed his sword from the corner, heading for the door. "You've got a week, Android. Behave."

\-------------

Eighteen sat by a riverbank, bathing in the hot sun. She felt his approach before she heard it; not with energy, as they didn't have energy signatures, but with something unique to just them. She could remember, if she tried very hard, that they'd always been able to feel when the other one was close, or in pain. She frowned, pushing out the unwelcome memory. They'd been attempting to trouble her since Seventeen's odd behavior a week before, but it was oddly easy to send them away.

She heard him touch down in the grass not far from her and settle onto his back. He said nothing for a long while, and she knew he was probably staring at the sunset. He'd always loved nature, even more so before… she shook the thought away again.

"Feeling better?" She asked casually.

"Somewhat," he drawled back. 

"Good. I was wondering when you'd get back to normal."

"I'm not 'back'."

She turned her head and looked at him, frowning. "What?"

"I'm not 'back', not like that. I'm still… I just missed you."

"Oh."

He handed her a folded piece of paper. "This is the address I'm staying at. I'm not like a hermit or anything, you can come by if you want."

She said nothing to that, but pushed the piece of paper into her pocket.

"What've you been doing?" He asked.

"Not much. Too many of our games require two people. Played skyscraper jenga in West City, but the building collapsed in like twenty minutes. Boring. You?"

He shrugged. "I found out I suck at hunting animals. Ironic, really. I forgot how good cooked meat tastes. Oh, speaking of taste, I sucked Trunks' dick."

"Yeah, me too."

"Shut up, no you didn't."

"We're picking out our furniture set this weekend."

"I'm serious," Seventeen chuckled.

"Oh," she raised an eyebrow. "So which one of us was right? Girthier or just longer than a human's?"

"Girthier. It's not short, but it's human length."

"Ha. You owe me a dollar."

"Worth it."

"You gonna' share?"

"Best not. He's easily startled away, like a sexy deer with a huge cock."

"Shame," she shrugged. "He's not bad. Have fun riding him into the sunset."

"It's just sex, obviously," Seventeen snorted. "Even as a human, I was never a one person kind of slut."

Eighteen stared up at the darkening sky. "You know, I thought I might be."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I remember thinking…" she frowned, struggling for once past the dampener, "that it would be nice to settle down one day. I thought I'd find a nice, sweet guy for once. You know, one I'm  _ way _ sexier than so he'd be super grateful to have me. Settle in, have some kids designed specifically to annoy their uncle."

He smiled weakly. "You could get that, I'd bet. But not if you keep killing."

Eighteen rolled her eyes. "Gods, it's like you found religion or something. I don't need any pamphlets."

"I get it, you're scared of turning off the dampener. I think you'd like it, but it's not a necessity. But you have to stop killing people."

"They're just  _ mice _ , Seventeen. It's not a big deal, I'm bored."

"Come stay with me. We can keep each other company some other way, we don't have to destroy just because Gero told us to. Plus, if we're done, the humans can come  _ back _ . If they rebuild, we won't be bored for long. We'll have new conversations, new drama to listen to."

"I don't know."

"Think about it?"

"I don't  _ know _ ."

Seventeen sighed. "Without me in the picture, Trunks and his soldiers will be on your ass from now on. Well, not literally. Literally I hope he's on  _ my _ ass. Moreover he's almost definitely watching us right now, he's a total stalker lately. Hi Trunks!" He yelled into the sunset, echoing over the lake. "I guarantee he heard that."

"So what, you're his pet now?"

"I can't blame him for not trusting me."

"Will you help him take me down?"

"Never. And if you remembered me, the  _ real _ me, you wouldn't even have to ask."

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of bugs around them, refusing to land on their altered skin. "I believe you."

He smiled, settling in to nap close to her before he headed home for the night. "Good."


	5. Chapter 5

Trunks stuck to the shadows on the fire escape, making sure to stay out of the android's line of sight. As usual, his morning had consisted of tailing the former homicidal maniac to make sure he wasn't hurting anyone or planning anything. It'd been three days since he'd spoken to him, and so far he'd barely left the apartment he was fixing up.

Seventeen stood at the counter, tasting a bit of meat over a battery-powered griddle as he made a late breakfast. Without turning to the window, the android called out loud, "You want breakfast, Trunks?"

Trunks said nothing, as always, staying hidden. He doubted the android  _ really _ knew he was there, he'd just occasionally throw out tests like that.  _ 'Hey, Trunks, have you ever read this?' 'Do you want to run to the store with me?' 'You could at least make yourself useful and come help me paint this damn wall.'  _ It was bait, thrown out to see if Trunks was really watching, and he was sure the android probably said them all day, even when he wasn't around… at least, he was pretty sure that's what they were.

Seventeen ate his breakfast alone at the coffee table, and then headed into his bathroom and shut the door. The plumbing was working, it had always been off and on in different neighborhoods of the city, and Trunks could hear the shower running. He closed his eyes and leaned back, wishing he'd let himself get a little more sleep the night before, but knowing why he hadn't.

He'd spent the night in Mai's bed.

It had seemed like a good idea. His shameful actions from a few days before kept haunting him, and it felt like he couldn't get the android's scent off of his skin. He'd thought a night with Mai, which she was more than agreeable to, would help him reset whatever needed to be reset. But there in bed with her, where he'd performed a few dozen times…

_ "It's not a big deal, Trunks, it just happens sometimes." _

He seethed to himself on the fire escape, knowing he had no right to. It certainly wasn't Mai's fault he couldn't stay hard; she'd touched and kissed and whispered to him for a long time, succeeding for minutes at a time. He didn't much care if it  _ sometimes happened _ , it had never happened to him before. The bitter taste of shame in his mouth had just gathered the stings of disappointment and failure to boot.

He must have dozed off at some point, because he suddenly realized he didn't hear the shower anymore. He snapped his eyes open, ready to track down the android if he'd left while Trunks was asleep. But no, Seventeen was  _ immediately _ visible when he opened his eyes, draped across his salvaged couch with his legs open towards Trunks' hiding spot. He was still slightly wet from the shower, and absolutely naked. His own fist was wrapped around his prominent erection, pumping himself with his eyes closed.

Trunks' breath caught in his throat as a thrill ran down his body. He fought against it for a moment, but he felt himself get hard almost immediately, eyes trained on the scene in front of him. He silently cursed at his own body. What  _ was _ it? What did his body seem to like so much about the monster in front of him now? He'd never thought of the android like this,  _ never _ , up until that damn kiss. It was just a joke, a game, but even as he'd grabbed the EMP to pierce his shoulder another part of his being had been wrapped up in how  _ good _ it felt. A question appeared in his mind, for not the first time in the last weeks.

_ Am I gay? _

He didn't…  _ think _ so. Or at least he knew he truly was attracted to Mai. She was beautiful, and long before all of this had stared it was usually her he pictured when he thought about sex. They'd never even officially declared each other anything so banal as 'boyfriend and girlfriend', but their relationship, whatever it was, was just taken for granted by his village. Of course their leader, the most valuable male asset they had, would be with Mai, the most valuable female asset they had. He liked having sex with her, and she was strong enough to look out for herself so that he could focus on leading the survivors. It was a good fit, so he had never even bothered to question his sexuality.

Now, as he fumbled with the zipper of his jeans so he could touch himself while watching a very male android jerk himself off, some questions arose.

Did Seventeen know he was watching? He'd said his name before, but Trunks still doubted he actually knew about his presence. Was this wrong, then? He liked to think he wasn't the sort of person who would get off watching someone through a window, and he was sure that if it was anyone else he wouldn't even consider it. But still he didn't stop, stroking himself quietly and matching the lazy pace Seventeen had set on his own body.

The android moaned, and Trunks' teeth bit down on his own cheek to stay quiet. He could remember how warm the android's body had been against his, the sensation of both of them climaxing together, the other man's mouth around his shaft…

He finished before Seventeen did, breathing hard against his other hand to stifle any noise. He left immediately, strapping his sword back over his shoulder, and headed straight for the Gravity Room.

\---------------------

He didn't know how long he'd been training, but it wasn't enough yet.

Trunks was the only one who trained in the Gravity Room now, ever. It had been built for his father before he was even born, but now he was the only person who ever fired up the old programs. He'd never mentioned it to his mother, but he sometimes felt it was his one inheritance, the one thing that connected him to the man he'd barely known.

_ He'd be so ashamed of you. _

Trunks destroyed the robot he'd been looking at when he had that thought, and a few dozen more for good measure. For him, training was like meditation, perfect for when he felt like his body was not in his control.

Sweat poured down his face when he finally noticed the knocking on the door. It was fast and insistent, and he knew immediately it was his mother. He lowered the gravity to normal and felt his muscles throb from overuse. As soon as the program shut down the door unlocked, and Bulma opened it.

"It's about time, Young Man, I've been knocking for five minutes," she snapped.

"Sorry," Trunks panted, wiping his face with his shirt. "What's wrong?"

"Where did you put the book I asked for?"

He frowned. "Book?"

Bulma stared at him a minute, then smiled mildly and shook her head. "I should have known you weren't listening last night. You had that distracted look on your face. You said you would swing by the old library today and collect a book Dr.Gero wrote."

"I did?" Trunks frowned. He remembered having a vague conversation with his mother the night before, but hadn't remembered he was supposed to do something for her. "Don't we have all of that?"

"We gathered everything he wrote on biomechanics," Bulma said, "but I'm hoping something he wrote on another subject might help me crack the firewalls in the android's heads. If I remember right he wrote something on birds, I didn't grab it the last time we went because it didn't seem relevant."

"I'm sorry," Trunks said, wiping his face off with his towel. "I'll head straight there."

"Don't go now silly, it's dark out."

"It's dark? How long have I been in here?"

"I stopped counting hours when you started yelling at my robots to shut the fuck up and stop looking at you," she grimaced. "Are you okay?"

He looked down, feeling like a child under her gaze. "Yes. I'm fine."

She pressed a button on the control panel and the entire Gravity Room went dark. "Well, you're grounded from training for the night. Go down below and get some dinner,  _ no _ arguments." She said, pointing at him severely.

He smiled. "Sure, Mom."

Bulma tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in that maternal way that always made him feel like she had a microscope directly into his brain. "Are you thinking about that android?"

Trunks blanched, and his shock must have been evident, because she just nodded sagely.

" _ Don't _ feel bad about him escaping, Trunks. You made a judgement call, and it has turned out to be right. He hasn't hurt anyone since. For once there's actual  _ hope _ down there, hope that if the androids are pacified we can start trying to rebuild. We'll kill him eventually. He'll pay for what he did to Gohan."

Trunks gritted his teeth, nodding. Oh. Of course she thought his guilt was about the man escaping. She didn't know he'd done much worse since.

"Do you want me to send a scouting party to the library?"

"No," he said immediately. "It's safest for me to go myself, Eighteen is still out there. I'll take care of it."

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, ushering him out of the cramped room.

The subway station which housed the majority of the population was a very short fly away from the remains of Capsule Corp, but Trunks went more slowly than normal to feel the cool air against his overheated skin. He touched down just outside of the entrance and headed down the cement steps, knowing they would have saved him a portion of dinner. He nodded a hello to a few people near the entrance, moving through the gathered tents and cordoned off areas towards the fire where some people were still eating.

He slowed to a shuffle. Maybe… he should probably swing by Mai's tent. Whatever was wrong with him it wouldn't get better by distancing himself from her. Maybe he could get her talking tonight, joke a little, find something they had in common besides just being strong and young. He nodded to himself, taking a detour towards her tent.

When he got closer he started to realize there was conversation coming from her tent, all female voices laughing happily together. He stopped a few feet away, unsure he wanted to interrupt them. Mai, like himself, tended to spend so much time working on projects that she did not socialize much. If she was finally trying to get closer to other women in the group he didn't want to bother her.

He turned, and he would have left, but he heard his name.

"Come on, tell us about Trunks," one of the women insisted saucily. "I'm tired of hearing Dahlia talk about her husband when we all know the only love life worth hearing about is yours."

"I second that motion," the woman named Dahlia agreed. 

Mai chuckled as Trunks stepped secretly closer to the tent, listening. "I don't believe that's your business, ladies."

"Come  _ on _ ," the first woman chided. "He's gorgeous, and he's got arms like a tree trunk."

"The hair," Dahlia, mused. "Like the cover of a romance novel."

" _ Yes _ , the hair," the first woman agreed. "If we're friends I think it is  _ absolutely _ fair for us to know how big his dick is."

Mai chuckled again. "I mean…  _ big _ ."

"I fucking knew it," Dahlia said firmly. "It's the way he walks."

"He walks fine," the first woman said, "he's just got that 'big dick' energy." She must have moved slightly because a mostly empty bottle of wine rolled out of the tent, and Trunks suppressed a laugh. It was definitely interesting to hear what his people talked about when he wasn't around.

"But…" Mai started.

Trunks froze.

"Uh oh, there's a but," the first woman said.

"It's nothing bad, really," Mai said. "It's just… I mean everyone knows I'm actually older than I look, and because of that I have a little more experience. Trunks is young."

"Oh  _ no _ ," Dahlia said dejectedly. "Don't crush my dreams. Don't tell me he's got the tool but none of the know-how?"

"He's gentle.  _ Really _ gentle. Like, 'there's a soap bubble between us, let's not pop it' gentle."

"Have you tried to teach him?"

"Yeah, I've tried to tell him to speed up and be a bit rougher, but I think he forgets, or he's trying not to cum too soon… I don't know. The sex is good, but it'll be better when he's a little older."

Dahlia sighed. "At least yours is young enough to always perform."

He didn't wait to see if Mai responded to that. He walked straight back the way he came, out into the cold night air.

\---------------------

Seventeen stood in front of the dirty department store mirror, checking the fit of the black slacks on his long frame. He had never cared much for clothes, that had been his sister's obsession. Which was why he'd brought her along.

"These aren't bad," he mused.

"No, you're wrong, they're too short. Take them off," Eighteen informed him, throwing a pair of blue jeans at him. "Try these."

Seventeen rolled his eyes, undoing the slacks right there by the mirror, and starting to slide into the jeans. "You're so picky."

"I have been trying to get you to look for new clothes for  _ years _ , I'm seizing the opportunity," she said, browsing through a rusted rack of skirts for herself. "Boys are fun to dress up. I hope Trunks keeps ripping your pants off, we'll get to do it again. Any chance I can get you in a suit?"

"None whatsoever."

"Fine. I look better in a tie than you anyway."

He looked at the jeans in the mirror. "These are as short as the slacks were."

"Damn our long legs," she muttered, grabbing another size and throwing it at him.

"Maybe I can pick up some shirts while I'm here anyway."

" _ No _ flannel," she warned.

He threw his head back. "You're such a bitch about clothes."

"If I didn't stop you then you'd dress like a drunken lumberjack."

"Maybe Trunks likes drunken lumberjacks."

"I don't care what Trunks likes, I see you more than him and I won't accept the punishment of staring at plaid unironically."

"I love plaid."

"And I have made the bold choice not to disown you for it. Those fit better, I will grab you a few pairs of them."

They both turned their head simultaneously, hearing a familiar noise far down the street.

"Well well, speak of the devil," Eighteen smirked. "He's coming toward us awful fast."

"Get lost," Seventeen said, nodding his head toward the back door.

She crossed her arms. "Excuse me? You're faced with the  _ slight _ possibility of dick and I get tossed to the wolves?"

He rolled his eyes. "He doesn't exactly love you right now, he's losing too many men. I don't want to play referee."

"You never let me play with your toys," she pouted facetiously, collecting the small pile of clothes she'd picked out for herself. "This is our pogo stick all over again."

"I broke my arm on that thing."

"You deserved it because--" she froze, and a blank look fell over her face. Seventeen frowned, recognizing that look now. She was searching back for memories her dampener didn't want her to, and it was correcting her. "What were we talking about?"

"Nothing. You were leaving."

She stuck her tongue out at him, heading for the back door. "Only take home the clothes we agreed on. And no bandannas to wear around your neck. It took me years to get the last one off you, it just makes it look like you're hiding a hickey."

"Leeeeeave," he groaned.

"Fiiiiiine," she called, disappearing out of the back.

Seventeen turned back to the mirror, holding up a new shirt to his chest to pretend he was considering it. He figured that when Trunks walked in he could give him shit for making him go clothes shopping. Maybe he could tease him a bit about lingerie? He could almost see the stuttery blush on the Half Saiyan's face already.

He heard Trunks enter, but couldn't see him through the mirror at his angle. He spoke anyway, expecting the man to head straight for him. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. Are you here to find a new shirt, or have you gotten used to the cum stain?"

Trunks didn't answer, which was odd. Seventeen heard the man's footprints approaching him fast, and he had only just turned around to glance at him when Trunks' hands grabbed his arms. The Half Saiyan threw him hard, halfway across the store, and he landed against the counter by the register.

He pushed himself to his feet, ready to drop into a fighting stance and ask him what the hell his problem was, but Trunks was already inches away from him. The Half Saiyan spun him back around, bending him hard over the counter and standing right behind him, pressed against him. Seventeen could feel his erection straining against the confines of clothing.

_ Oh. _

Trunks undid Seventeen's new jeans, yanking them down frantically and dropping them to the floor. The android kicked them away as he heard Trunks lowering his own pants, and he deliberately ground himself back against Trunks. He braced himself for an unlubed, unprepared entrance.

To his surprise, it didn't come. Even as fevered and desperate as Trunks seemed, he felt a spit-slickened finger at his entrance, clumsily rushing to prepare him. He laughed once against the counter; even as a human, not everyone who'd fucked him had tried to be so considerate, certainly not in a moment of passion.

"I'm ready, just fuck me," Seventeen begged after a pause.

Trunks took the invitation, immediately lining up his slickened head against the android's entrance and pushing his way inside. They both let out a gasp as he moved in, slowly at first, stretching him wide. They breathed in unison, basking for a moment at the new sensations. Trunks picked up speed, pounding into him hard and fast.

Seventeen moaned against the counter, and he heard only Trunks' labored breathing and the slap of skin against skin. He arched his back to push against Trunks, any mild pain immediately turning to pleasure he wanted more of.

Trunks was relentless, and the android could almost feel his anger burning on his skin. He heard the young man's voice shake as he spoke. "Do you like my cock? You want more, Android?"

" _ Fuck _ !" Seventeen cried out against the counter. " _ Yes _ . Fuck me harder! I can take it."

Trunks' fingers dug into the android's hips, hard enough to snap the bones of a human. "Can you?"

Seventeen could tell that Trunks' thrusts would be injuring a normal human now. His eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open against the counter as thinking became harder to manage. He let out a low moan, fingers tight against the edge of the counter that seemed a bit wobblier than before.

" _ This _ is what I want," Trunks spat, mostly to himself. "This is how hard I want to fuck. She couldn't handle this. She couldn't  _ give _ me what I fucking need."

Seventeen vaguely made a mental note that it apparently wasn't himself that had pissed Trunks off this time, but he didn't much care. If this was how he dealt with stress, Trunks could use him as a punching bag anytime.

There was a loud snap, and the checkout counter came off of it's foundations, falling forward and interrupting them. Seventeen caught himself with his hands, climbing up Trunks body just as the other man backed him against a wall, lowering Seventeen back down onto his shaft. The android's feet sought purchase against the back of Trunks' thighs as he held on through the rough onslaught.

Trunks' hot mouth came down the white column of the android's neck and nipped at the unblemished skin there. Seventeen reached up above himself for a handhold and his fingers caught the edge of a long shelf. He tried to use it as leverage to change his angle, but the rusted metal was no match for him. The shelf quickly snapped from its perch, dropping piles of merchandise around them.

This at least got Trunks' attention. He caught the android's eye looking… concerned? Nervous? Seventeen quickly realized he was taking his attempt to readjust himself as a critique, and he smiled wickedly at him.

"I just want to ride it," Seventeen said simply, suddenly shoving Trunks hard across the store.

The Half Saiyan, completely taken by surprise, knocked over several clothing racks before he landed on his back, looking back in angry confusion. In seconds Seventeen was straddling him, sinking down over Trunks' erection and rolling his eyes back once he was fully inside. Trunks let out a new sound, tangling his hands in own hair and he took shallow breaths.

"Fuck you're  _ deep _ ," Seventeen groaned. He could see the pleasure written on Trunks face as the other man's hand came down to grasp him, pumping the android clumsily. Trunk's eyes were closed, teeth gritted sharply.

Seventeen grinned evilly. "You're trying not to cum, aren't you?"

Trunks didn't respond.

The android grasped Trunks' jaw, holding it back in place slightly. "Too bad. You're going to cum to for me. Right fucking now."

Trunks let out a strangled cry, and Seventeen felt him throb hard as he spilled inside of the android. Seventeen's hand joined Trunks', and in moments, he was cumming across Trunks' abdomen, riding it out as long as he could.

Seventeen breathed heavily, then rolled to the side and flopped down on the floor, a small cloud of dust rising around him. "God  _ damn _ ."

"Yeah," Trunks mumbled languidly.

"Whoever pissed you off, see them more often. I like your style of catharsis."

Trunks sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. Seventeen caught the movement and rolled his eyes, immediately predicting what was next. "Let me guess. 'How could I let myself do this?' 'This has to stop?' 'What the fuck is wrong with me?'"

"Pretty much."

"You know, I like Pre-orgasm Trunks a lot more than I-Smell-Like-Shame-And-Sex Trunks."

"Me too."

Seventeen looked at him. "Oh? Do tell."

"I don't know. In the heat of the moment it's like it doesn't matter that you're…"

"Incredibly sexy? Evil? A proud owner of a cock?"

" _ Whatever _ you are," Trunks concluded. "I don't think about it. I just…  _ want _ you. Like I'm surrounded by poisoned food but I'm too hungry to care."

Seventeen watched his face, surprised to hear the Saiyan say so much. "I've changed my mind, I kind of like Chatty-After-Sex Trunks."

"Those all sound like really shitty action figures."

Seventeen snorted. "Trunks dolls, now anatomically correct."

"Wouldn't that just make me a sex toy?"

"I'm the one made of plastic and metal around here, if anything  _ I'm _ the sex toy, thank you very much."

Trunks chuckled, pushing his hair back.

"So who pissed in your sake today?"

"Hmm?"

"You just hate-fucked me so hard we broke half of the store," he said, looking around with a grimace. "Which Eighteen won't be thrilled with. What pissed you off?"

A shadow passed over Trunks face, and he said nothing.

"Oh," Seventeen said, feeling the warmth leave the room. "Silly me. I thought we were having a conversation."

Trunks sat up looking across the dirty floor for his clothes which had been discarded at various moments. "My life is none of your business."

"And yet mine is expected to be an open book? Don't think I don't see you at. You skulk about behind walls and we both pretend you're not there."

"You knew I was going to watch you. I have no choice."

"That's such bullshit. If I killed a human you would know, because they wouldn't come back to your little shantytown, would they? Eighteen always leaves survivors, they would be able to tell you who attacked them. You follow me because you want to. Or are we pretending you didn't come just to watch me jerk off this morning?"

Trunks froze, and Seventeen smirked.

"That's right, I know exactly where you were. Even if I didn't hear and smell you coming from blocks away, I found you asleep out there. I decided to put on a little show, and judging by the mess you left on my fire escape I'd say you enjoyed it."

Trunks' face was red, eyes trained on the ground. "I didn't… come there for that."

"You left awful damn fast afterward."

"I needed to train."

"Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself. Now, are we going to talk about how you came on command?"

Trunks' face grew impossibly redder and he quickly started fastening his clothes.

"Could you be a secret sub? Interesting. That is  _ very _ interesting."

" _ You're _ the one who pushed me on the ground in the first place."

"You fucking liked it. You didn't come here for fragile sex, did you? You came for a hard fuck, the kind that a human couldn't handle."

Trunks slipped his sword over his shoulder, and stalked out of the store.

Seventeen laid back a while, staring up at what had once been florescent lights, but now was just useless, dead glass.


	6. Chapter 6

Seventeen had just woken up for the day, stretching as he made his way towards his kitchen. The extreme exhaustion he'd experienced after his dampener was switched off had faded somewhat, and now he only really slept around six hours at night. It was plenty for a body that didn't technically need sleep, but a mind that craved it anyway.

He stopped when he heard the knock at his door, perking up his eyebrow. He approached the door slowly, calling to whoever was on the other side.

"Is that you, Laz?" He asked, knowing damn well who it was. "Because if it is you will have to give me a minute to get dressed."

"It's me," Trunks said hollowly.

Seventeen opened the door, and Trunks immediately snorted and looked away. "Why are you naked?"

"Because I felt like it. I don't exactly have to worry about a neighbor stopping by for sugar, now do I? You didn't mind seeing me naked in the store last night."

Trunks turned back but kept his eyes high. "Can you really always tell when I'm watching you?"

"Always."

"In that case," Trunks fidgeted, sliding the scabbard of his sword off his back, "it doesn't really make much sense for me to hide."

"Not really," Seventeen nodded, stepping to the side. "Breakfast?"

"Fine," Trunks said, heading in towards his couch and setting the sword down against his table. "Are you going to get dressed?"

"Um, this is my apartment? If anything you should be polite and get naked with me."

Trunks snorted. "I didn't realize there was a dress code."

Seventeen walked over to his kitchen, switching on his little griddle with a grimace. "I need electricity. It's hell trying to run this place without it."

"Just use a generator," Trunks said, pulling off his jacket and laying it against the couch. "That's what we do. The Gravity Room takes a lot of juice."

"Where am I going to find one of those?"

"There… might be some unused ones at the stadium in the center of town," Trunks said reluctantly. "They're supposed to be our back ups in case one of our's breaks and can't be replaced."

"Oh," the android blinked. "Sweet. That'll work."

"I'll be keeping a close eye on you," Trunks reminded him sharply. "Normally I'd just tail you, but what matters is I'll know if you hurt anyone."

"Are you still using that excuse?" The android asked, laying out strips of meat to sizzle. "You don't have to threaten me. If you're coming with me just say so."

Trunks looked around the apartment, taking in the various changes he'd made since he'd last been inside. Cupboards that had hung loosely from the wall were fasted back in place, splintered wood replaced with new pieces he assumed the android had gathered from other apartments. The layer of grime on the floor seemed to have reduced to almost nothing in some places as he'd scrubbed, and more and more it was starting to look like a comfortable space. The android noticed his appraisal, speaking up.

"It'll work, for now."

"For now?"

"I don't want to stay here forever. City life was never really my thing."

Trunks stared at him incredulously. "Oh, I get what you mean. It's so crowded out there. How do you deal with the traffic?"

Seventeen chuckled. "The lack of people is nice, sure, but by city life I mean there's nothing  _ green _ here. Humans need to see plants to be happy, you know, it's a scientific fact."

"Then why are you still here?"

"You. Obviously."

"What?"

The android carried a plate high with meat and sat it on his coffee table, sitting down on the opposite side from Trunks and grabbing a piece himself before gesturing to the other man to grab some. "You have this obsession with watching me, and this place is just far enough from Capsule Corp to keep you from freaking out, but close enough that you can pop in to 'watch me', or whatever you call it."

"So what, you're trying to be convenient for me?" He asked, grabbing food.

"I figure I owe you that, for a while," Seventeen shrugged. "I wouldn't trust me either. Besides, I'm close enough for a late night booty call."

"We don't have phones."

"It's a figure of speech, asshole. Now take off your pants so I can suck your dick."

"That's not why I came here."

"Shut up, yes it is." Trunks moved to speak but Seventeen cut him off. "Enough, Trunks. Just, enough. Your blatant denial was cute at first, but you keep coming back for more, and I don't want to have to pretend to seduce you every time you show up. Just admit that we're friends with benefits."

"We're not friends."

"Oh my  _ gods _ , fine, enemies with benefits. Hate-fuck buddies. The point is," he brazenly threw his leg over Trunks' lap, straddling him on the couch. "Are you going to stop touching me?"

Trunks stared at him, gritting his teeth. "No."

"Then stop pretending, coward," Seventeen said. He surged forward and met Trunks' lips with his own, and the Half Saiyan immediately fell into the kiss.

Seventeen pulled away after a moment, and Trunks' was breathing hard. "Anyway, I'll go get dressed now." He hopped off of Trunks' lap and headed towards his room.

"Hey, but…" Trunks frowned disappointedly from the couch, a large tent in his pants.

Seventeen shrugged. "Next time I offer to suck you off, don't be a bitch about it. If I tell you to take your fucking pants off, take them off."

\---------------

Seventeen touched down a block from the stadium, his boots crunching down against the asphalt. He walked up to the entrance and stopped, gazing up at the tall green walls that still stood mostly undisturbed.

He heard the sound of Trunks landing by his side, keeping his distance. The Half Saiyan crossed his arms, following his eyeline. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," the android said, pushing open the double doors.

The front entrance was dark, and despite the warm day it was much cooler inside of it's cement walls. A row of box office windows were directly in front of them, and off to the right a large concession stand stood silent. The doors closed behind them, and they could barely see each other in the dim light.

Seventeen made a beeline for the concessions, hopping over the counter and digging through a rack of long-abandoned snacks.

Trunks made a sour face, coming up to the other side of the counter. "You can't be considering eating any of that."

"Why not?"

"Because most of it expired twenty years ago."

"Expiration dates are suggestions," Seventeen scoffed. "You just have to know what to look for."

"It's  _ moldy _ ."

"Not all of it," he insisted. "Look, energy bars. They last forever." He grinned, reaching under the counter, and holding up a handful of miniature liquor bottles. "So does booze."

Trunks grimaced. "Great, another source of alcohol. Just want the village needs."

Seventeen tossed a few to him. "Then you'll just have to drink them all yourself, you selfless martyr you."

Trunks looked at the bottle. "What, you're not going to hoard them?"

"I doubt I can get drunk, the painkillers did nothing for me. I miss being fucked up, take a shot in my honor."

"I don't drink."

"It's one shot, with Saiyan stamina it'll be nothing. Just do it."

Trunks cracked open the top of one and sniffed at the liquor, wincing. "You  _ miss _ this stuff?"

"The effect, not the taste. Do it. Swallow that now and I'll swallow something else later," he winked.

Trunks rolled his eyes, but he threw the shot back. He shook his head, grimacing. "Ew. I don't get it."

"You're supposed to keep drinking them until you can't feel your lips anymore, then you don't taste it," Seventeen said, grabbing a souvenir bag from a rack by them and shoving the shooters in with the energy bars.

"I thought you weren't keeping them?"

"They're for you," Seventeen said, tossing the bag over his shoulder. "I'm hoping Drunk-ass Trunks will be as pleasant as Chatty After Sex Trunks."

"Why, are you going to roofie me?"

"Why would I have to do that? You've already fucked me sober and peer pressure seems to work just fine. Oh wait, sorry, not peer, mortal enemy pressure." He was looking through the other souvenirs, blowing dust from the piles of merchandise. "Oh my  _ gods _ ."

"What?"

Seventeen turned back towards him, plopping a small toy ceremoniously on the counter. It was a bobblehead of a bumblebee with wide eyes. He pushed the head to the side to set it in motion, and it moved on its spring.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's Beedo," Seventeen said, tapping it's head again. "It was the mascot of the Killer Bees. I always wanted one of these."

"What do you mean? Why didn't you just take one?"

"I don't mean now, I mean before. Before Gero."

"What sport did they play?"

He stared at him. "What sport do you think they played in a baseball stadium?"

"Is that what this is?" Trunks asked, looking curiously at the second liquor bottle he held. "I wondered what they played here. Is that the one with bats, or was that cricket?"

Seventeen blinked. "You're shitting me. I thought you were in your twenties?"

"I am."

"And you don't know what baseball is?"

Trunks frowned. "I was busy. And there weren't a lot of sports happening after the fucking world ended, thanks to you."

He expected the android to be defensive, or at least annoyed, but he just looked intently at the small toy still bouncing between them.

"What?"

"We didn't… wreck this place. Eighteen and I. We destroyed everything that wasn't useful to us in some way, but we never came here after Gero. Maybe we remembered it."

"Remembered it? You've been here before?"

He tapped the counter slowly, a look of deep concentration on his face. "Once a summer, every summer, for about ten years." He put the toy in his backpack. "So I think I earned a damn Beedo."

He heard Trunks gag and looked up, raising an eyebrow to see him swallowing down the second bottle of liquor. "I thought you didn't drink?"

"As long as we're talking about rewards, I've been fighting you for ten years too. I can have a damn drink if I want."

The android held up his hands. "No arguments here. I bet Drunk-ass Trunks is slutty. Come on, let me show you the diamond."

Trunks frowned. "The  _ what _ ?"

Seventeen hopped over the counter and grabbed Trunks shirt, pulling him down a hallway. The light of day shone on them again gradually, and the hallway opened up into a doorway set in the middle of long bleachers. The grass had grown uninhibited, but still the bare diamond was visible, with its white plates glinting in the sun. He grinned, running down the steps and jumping over the small wall down onto the field. Trunks followed a ways behind him, sitting on the wall to watch him.

Seventeen walked up to home plate, gazing out over the field from closer than he'd ever been. If he listened closely, he could almost hear the crowd again. He could taste cheap mustard on his tongue, and in the back of his mind a voice and a face he hadn't thought of in years…

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. That wasn't something he was willing to think about right now. He focused instead on Laz's face that day; she'd forgotten sunscreen and her face was as red as a tomato by the end of the game. That was a facet of memory that held no pain, and he could smile about it. He held up an imaginary bat, swinging towards the outfield and making a 'pop' with his mouth when the bat would have hit the ball.

"So you just had to hit the ball over the wall and you won?" Trunks asked, leaning forward with his elbows against his knees. "Seems easy enough."

Seventeen gaped back at him like he'd blasphemed horribly. "There's a hell of a lot more to it than that. Sure, getting a home run was damn impressive, but there were bases, catchers, umpires, the whole team needed to work cohesively. These were  _ full _ humans we're talking about, they didn't have any alien genes or artificial enhancements."

Trunks smirked smugly. "So now humans are damn impressive? I thought you considered them all just mice?"

Seventeen paused, then rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, point made. Are you proud of that one?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"There's got to be some equipment around here," Seventeen said, heading towards the 

dugout.

Trunks jumped down and followed him. "So? I thought we were here for the generators."

"We can't just come out here and not hit a ball," he insisted, grabbing a wooden bat that was leaning against a bench. "Let's look for the equipment room."

The door in the dugout was locked, but one good shove from the android's shoulder opened it. A short hallway led into a larger chamber, and Seventeen grinned.

"Hey, a locker room. Nice."

Trunks wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

"They all smell like that. Brings back memories."

"Did you play on a team?"

"No, I just got fucked by one."

Trunks snorted.

"What, I can't just appreciate the game?" He asked, popping open a locker and peering inside.

"You had sex with a baseball team?"

"Not all of them, just a few after a ball game once. Not  _ here _ , obviously."

"Huh."

"What do you mean, 'huh'?"

"This was when you were human?"

"Yes."

"I didn't realize you were… like this, back then."

"Like this?" He smirked wickedly. "A whore, you mean? Or just into men?"

Trunks shrugged. "I don't know. Both."

"Gero sure as hell didn't give that to me. The last couple years before he got a hold of me I tried… a lot of different stuff. Sex was just my favorite new experiment, especially bottoming." He shivered. "Can't believe I went so long without it."

Trunks shifted uncomfortably.

"What? Are you back to pretending you don't want me?"

"No, I just… I don't see what you…  _ get _ out of that. Does it hurt, or…?"

The android's smile widened. "Are you asking what being fucked feels like?"

"No," Trunks said immediately.

"It feels amazing, if you know what you're doing. Why, getting curious? Want to see what you're missing?"

"Shut up, Android." He said, dropping his gaze. The other man saw the slight traitorous tinge in his cheeks.

Seventeen chuckled, stepping towards him. "More evidence in my 'Trunks Is a Sub' file. Interesting. Don't worry, I'm not willing to switch yet. Take off your pants."

" _ Here _ ?" Trunks balked.

Seventeen cocked his head to the side. "What lesson did you learn this morning, Trunks?"

The Half Saiyan set his jaw, reluctant for only a moment, then he reached down and started unbuckling his pants.

"See, you're catching on," Seventeen smirked, grabbing two handfuls of Trunks' jacket and pulling him in to kiss him hard. Their lips met feverishly, and it was with a rush of satisfaction that he realized the Half Saiyan was clinging to him like a life preserver.  _ This _ was why he had come with him today. Why he followed him, ostensibly pretending to 'watch him'. If nothing else, he knew damn well that Trunks  _ wanted _ him.

Trunks' hands slipped down, grabbing fiercely at Seventeen's ass as the android pulled the other man's clothing away. Trunks turned him suddenly, bending him longways against the bench before yanking his pants down out of the way. He heard the man spit, and then felt Trunks' fingers trying to prepare him again.

"Come on, just put it in!"

Trunks hesitated. "Don't you want--"

"I like pain," Seventeen insisted. "Fuck me with that fat cock!"

The man paused only long enough to line himself up, and then he pushed himself inside the android. Seventeen moaned loudly, fingers clutching the bench below him. He felt Trunks' hand tangle in his hair, wrenching his head to the side so he could see him.

"What you want to watch my face while you fuck me?" Seventeen panted teasingly. "You like to see someone's eyes when they cum?"

Trunks didn't answer, but he kept his death grip on the android, holding his face in one hand and the side of his waist in the other while he thrust hard into him.

Seventeen adjusted himself slightly so he could touch himself, mouth hanging open wantonly as he arched back against Trunks. "Fuck, you want to know what bottoming feels like? It's so good, being stretched open, used like a toy. Shit, you're so  _ big _ ."

Trunks grunted low in his throat. His eyes lightened dangerously as he flickered on the verge of Super Saiyan. He still said nothing.

The android looked back at him, and their eyes met. Trunks' thumb moved down over Seventeen's lip, and their eye contact turned from coincidental to intense.

"More," he breathed around Trunks' thumb.

Trunks growled, lunging forward and biting into Seventeen's shoulder blade.

"Ah!" Seventeen grunted, clinging to a fierce jolt of pleasure as he released onto the concrete floor below him. "Yes!"

The steady growl poured out of Trunks' mouth as he snapped his hips harder against Seventeen. He stilled, fingers tightening against his scalp as he came inside of the android. After a moment Trunks released his teeth from his back, wiping a small amount of blood from his mouth.

" _ Damn _ ," Seventeen panted. "Where did  _ that _ come from? Have you been holding out on me?" He turned around to see Trunks looking down, instant embarrassment on his face. "Let me guess, post-nut clarity setting in?"

"I… don't know why I did that," Trunks muttered.

"Have you ever bitten anyone before during sex?"

"No," Trunks said, shaking his head. "Never."

Seventeen pulled his pants on. "Well, clearly it's my fault. I'm just so damn sexy you can't help but let your Saiyan side out a little."

Trunks snorted, but the android saw a small smirk on his face.

"I'm not going to catch anything from you am I?" 

"Like what?"

"Maybe I'm a Were-Trunks. On a full moon I'm going to get highlights and think seat belts are a fashion statement."

He chuckled. "I'll make sure I'm around you next full moon. Maybe you'd make sense for once."

"Oh, you just want to fuck yourself, I see how it is. I get it, you're hot. Get dressed. We're going to find a generator, then I'm going to destroy kick your ass at the best game of all time."

\---------------------

It was already late afternoon when they made it to the front of Seventeen's building. The generator they decided on wasn't terribly large; Seventeen insisted 800 watts was enough for his purposes. It was a bit too heavy for a human to carry, but not a problem for the android. He had the thing loosely tied to his back, looped over his shoulders next to the backpack he'd grabbed. Trunks trudged behind him up the stairs, throwing back another shot from a small bottle.

"Are you still pouting back there?" Seventeen asked, smirking.

"I'm not  _ pouting _ . I don't pout."

"So I hit the ball farther than you. I've played the game before, you're new at it. Don't feel bad."

"I was tired, I had to do all the work in the locker room."

Seventeen chuckled. "Sure."

"Really," Trunks said, catching up to him. "I'm fine. I think I'm just a little tipsy."

"Then why don't you stop drinking all the liquor?"

"Why don't you bite me?"

"That’s more your thing, Saiyan."

Trunks nodded to the generator. "Do you think you'll get it running? You'll need fuel."

Seventeen pushed open the door to his apartment; he never locked it. "That won't be hard to get. I can mount it on the fire escape and wire it into the system. It should only take a little maintenance…" he paused catching sight of the figure sitting at his dining table.

Eighteen leaned back in his dining room chair, her feet propped up casually. She smiled lazily at them, and her brother set his heavy generator down on the floor.

"About time you come and see me," Seventeen started with a smile, but Trunks pushed past him. He unsheathed his sword, his jaw set tersely.

"You."

Eighteen wiggled her fingers at him in greeting. "Hey, Trunks. Long time no see."

He held the sword out. "I lost a good man the other day. His name was Sagar."

She tutted offhandedly. "Short guy, bad at chess? Rings a bell."

Seventeen quickly stepped between them. "Hey,  _ no _ . Knock it off you two."

"Why so tense, Trunks?" Eighteen asked. "You two reek of sex, are you really like this when you're relaxed?" She sniffed again. "And drunk?"

"How am I supposed to relax when a monster continues to thin the few survivors left of humanity?" Trunks snapped.

"What are you doing here, Eighteen?" Her brother asked.

She crossed her arms. "I thought you wanted me here?"

"I  _ do _ ," he said genuinely. "Just…" his eyes flitted to Trunks. "You two don't get along very well."

She sighed, tapping the table with her fingers as she stood up. "Right. Proverbial sock on the door. It's fine. I can go entertain myself for the afternoon."

"Sorry, Laz," Seventeen said, looking regretful.

"I'll swing by tomorrow. You can tell me all the details of the activities that are making Trunks blush right now," she said, pausing at the doorway.

"He wouldn't do that," Trunks mumbled.

"You underestimate just how little we have to talk about anymore," Seventeen said. "Hey, wait, Laz, I grabbed you something." He unzipped his bag, digging something out and handing it to her.

Eighteen held the small bobblehead on her flat palm, arching up an eyebrow. "What is this?"

"It's Beedo," he reminded her, nudging the spring again. "Do you remember?"

She stared at the toy a moment, then shrugged and solved it into her pocket. "I told you to stop calling me that." She headed down the stairs without another word.

\-------------------

"Mother  _ fucker _ ," Seventeen mumbled as his screwdriver slipped again.

He sat crossed legged on the floor, several parts of the generator scattered out around him. Trunks laid back on the sofa nearby, eyes closed and one hand trailing down on the floor. He'd taken his jacket and shoes off, leaving him in only his black shirt, pants, and socks. A few more empty liquor bottles lay near him on the wooden floor. The Half Saiyan stirred, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

"What time is it?"

"I don't know," Seventeen shrugged. "I don't keep a clock. Seems pointless."

"There's a watch," he mumbled, pointing at the jacket near the android.

He pulled a small watch with a broken face from a pocket. "It's about eleven."

"Fuck," Trunks muttered.

"What?"

"I need to get back."

"I figured."

"I don't want to go."

Seventeen perked up an eyebrow, watching as Trunks lifted another small bottle to his lips and threw it back without a wince. "And why is that?"

"I don't want to talk to Mai tonight."

Seventeen snorted. "Well well, Drunk-ass Trunks and I meet at last. How many of those have you had?"

"All day?" Trunks asked. "I dunno. Enough? I don't think I'm drunk."

"Right, you're sharing your relationship problems with me out of your own free will." Seventeen scoffed gently.

Trunks sighed. "I just… don't want to. And when I get home she's gonna look for me and maybe want sex, and what am I gonna say?"

"How about, 'no thanks bitch, I already fucked someone who knew what he was doing'?"

Trunks snorted.

Seventeen sat his wrench down. "If you don't want to leave then just stay."

Trunks rolled his head to look at him. "Hmm? What?"

"Stay here. Your little group won't fall apart without you for one damn night. Just spend the night here."

"I can't," he muttered softly.

"Oh very convincing, Trunks. Are you going to try to get me to coax you into it? Just stay. Besides, you smell like a liquor store, you want to answer questions when you get back?"

"No," he admitted. "Alright. One night."

Seventeen stood up, dusted off his pants and pulled his shirt off. "Let's go then."

"Go where?"

"To bed."

Trunks snorted. "I'm going to sleep here on the couch."

"Why bother?"

"You're…" he struggled. "I'm not sharing a bed with you."

"Oh, but cumming in me is fine?" Seventeen asked, crossing his arms. "Do you want sex before you go to sleep or not?"

Trunks pulled himself up from the couch, acquiescing at least to that. He stumbled just slightly when he stood, following after Seventeen.

The functional bedroom Seventeen had set up for himself was mostly empty, with one large mattress laying on a boxspring on the floor. Trunks dropped onto it unceremoniously, covering his face with one hand and breathing a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong with me?" He muttered. 

Seventeen unabashedly stripped off all of his clothes, tossing them aside before he climbed on top of Trunks. 

"Well, so far I'd say a massive hero complex and daddy issues," he reached down and grasped Trunks' growing erection. "But do you really want to talk about armchair psychology right now? I thought you wanted sex."

"I do," Trunks muttered."I'm just tired."

A wicked gleam shone behind Seventeen's eyes. "Well I guess I have to do the work then."

"Mmm? Fine."

Seventeen pulled Trunks' clothes off, leaving him bare against the android's faded blankets. He traced the underside of Trunks' shaft with his lips, slowly pushing his legs apart, slow enough that the Half Saiyan didn't seem to notice. He bent down low, distracting him with a skillful hand before leaning in and slipping his tongue against Trunks' untouched entrance.

"Hey!" Trunks said immediately, more out of surprise than anything else.

"Relax," Seventeen said quickly, still stroking him. "I won't fuck you."

"You… you won't--"

"I mean I would, if you wanted me to," the android laughed, "but it's not my goal tonight. Just admit it, you want to see what you're missing."

Trunks gulped, but he didn't deny it. His eyes were wide open now, staring down into Seventeen's as the man lowered his head again, pressing his tongue firmly back against Trunks hole. 

"Why do you like pain?" Trunks asked suddenly.

Seventeen looked up. "You want to talk about this  _ now _ ?"

Trunks shrugged. "I guess I get curious when I'm drunk."

He chuckled. "Oh, you're admitting that now?"

"Well the room keeps spinning, so fine, whatever. Are you going to answer the question?"

Seventeen pressed one finger against Trunks, and felt him tense up. "I'll answer, but you have to relax for me. If you're too stressed it's not going to feel good."

"Fine."

Seventeen moved back down to use his tongue. "I got used to rough sex, it started to turn me on. You probably need a little more prep. Spread your legs for me more."

Trunks did as he was told, staring up at the ceiling. He took a deep breath, trying to distract himself. "Why did you get used to rough sex?"

Seventeen pulled his tongue away, pressing his fingertip back in place. "I don't know, after we left home we stayed in a few sketchy places. I hadn't tried men before that."

"Did you want it rough?"

"Why does that matter? I wanted it, that's the point."

"Why did you leave home-- ah!" He gasped as Seventeen slowly pushed his finger inside. "I don't know, that feels weird."

"Give it a minute," Seventeen insisted, pushing deeper.

"I don't know if… oh…." Trunks trailed off.

"There you go," Seventeen grinned. "It starts to feel good. Wait until I find your sweet spot."

Trunks panted for a moment, and then froze, a look of shock crossing his face. " _ Shit _ ."

"There it is," the android grinned. "I'm guessing you've never played with your prostate before?" He grasped Trunks' shaft, stroking it in time as he pushed expertly against the small bud. "Thank the  _ gods _ Gero left mine. They're fun."

Trunks held a fist to his mouth, breathing shallowly.

"You can moan, Trunks. We both see you dropping with precum," he teased, pulling his shaft back to suck on the tip. "We both know how good you feel."

Trunks eyes were closed tight, his jaw clenched.

"I said moan for me, Trunks."

A sound escaped Trunks' throat, steadily growing.

"There you go again, right on command," Seventeen snorted. "That's enough evidence for me. Trunks Briefs, savior of the human race, likes to take orders during sex."

"Fuck you."

Seventeen laughed victoriously, increasing his speed before he eased another finger inside of Trunks.

"Yeah, stretch me like that," Trunks breathed, eyes closed. Seventeen watched his jaw tilt backwards as another deep moan forced its way out of his throat.

Seventeen stared up at him, still pumping him with his other hand. "What about this? Can she do this to you? Can she make you squirm and beg for more?"

"No," Trunks gasped. "I'm…. I'm gonna cum, Lapis."

The android felt a shiver run up his spine, still unused to hearing his name spoken aloud. "Already? Hell, if you're this sensitive with fingers I can't wait to see how you take cock."

Trunks pulsed in his fist, climaxing up onto his abs as his mouth dropped open. Seventeen moved over him, sliding his tongue up over his midriff and licking the cum from his skin. Trunks chuckled sleepily, eyes drifting closed.

"What're you doin'?"

"This is my home. We don't waste cum here."

Trunks laughed softly as Seventeen sat back. In seconds, soft snoring filled the room. The android laid down next to him, pulling the blankets up as he settled into the pillow.

Trunks looked younger in his sleep. The normal lines of worry and responsibility smoothed out to nearly nothing. The man's lavender hair slid down his face, obscuring his closed eyes through a thin veil.

Seventeen reached out, pushing the hair back away from Trunks' face. His cheek was lit with a warmth that Seventeen's skin did not have enough humanity left to muster. He unintentionally lingered there, letting Trunks warm his fingertips.

"Why  _ do _ I like pain?" Seventeen asked himself quietly.


End file.
